Temper the Soul
by Zapenstap
Summary: A story seemingly to do with romance and domestic situations until war erupts, friends die, lovers are parted and good people are dealt great evil. Detailed writing, focus on painstakingly crafted OC, 1xR, OCxOC, violence, language, sex. RR
1. Prince Regent and First Choice

This story is the sequel to Heart of the Sword. It is highly recommended that Heart of the Sword be read before Temper the Soul, but I can't enforce it, now can I? I'd appreciate the reviews for both fics if readers are so inclined! ^_^ I've revised chapter one a few times. I find first chapters are always a little weird, both in writing and in reading. It's difficult knowing how to start a sequel and get into the intimacy of a story.  
  


Temper the Soul 

by zapenstap   
  
  


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Two years after the end of the Taravren Rebellion  


A soft breeze rustled the curtains, spreading the fragrance of roses from a vase on the vanity throughout the room. Relena stirred sleepily and opened her eyes, sighing contentedly. Turning her head, she rolled under the covers and laid her cheek on her arm, watching Heero sleep. He looked so calm with his eyes closed, lying on his back with one hand flung over his chest. 

Even as she watched him his eyes fluttered open. They always did. He always seemed to sense when she was awake and looking at him. Turning his head, he regarded her with those beautiful angular blue eyes of his, such a deep blue as to sometimes be mistaken for brown or even black. He didn't smile at her. He rarely did, especially in the morning, but there was something in his eyes, something deep and dark and profoundly focused to her. 

That look in his eye caused her to break her reserved expression and smile at him, that inviting and encouraging smile people sometimes took as mere nicety, but that she always meant it with all the passion of her heart. Responding, Heero shifted, half sitting up to lean over her, caressing her bare shoulder. She closed her eyes and enjoyed his nearness, hovering as he was only half-clothed by the sheet that covered both their bodies. Pushing loose strands of hair out of her face, reached for him, slinking her arms up over his shoulders and around his neck, pressing her upper body close to his and burying her face comfortably in his shoulder. 

He said nothing, as was his habit, but she felt his hands caress her back and she squeezed him tighter. "Good morning," she whispered, kissing his neck, and added regretfully, "I have to get up." 

He released her and she swung both feet off the bed, standing gracefully. Even as she padded softly to the shower and thought about her work and all the things she had to do today, her thoughts were laced with Heero. For the two years they had been together, every caress, every sound, every breath shared was a wonder to her. Their communication was still mostly on her side; at least where it concerned the two of them personally, but their understanding for each other had never been so deep or so lovely. 

She pulled her hair up on top of her head and turned on the water in the shower, testing its heat before stepping in, letting the water pour over her head and down her body. Pouring liquid soap onto a sponge, she began to lather her arms. 

Strangely, Milliardo seemed disapproving lately and that put more of a tension of their interaction in public, but Relena couldn't figure why he was bothered. He had not been upset when she told him they were together, not even when he learned they slept together, but as time drew on, he grew cold and distant. Maybe it was because Heero rarely showed her any affection in public or spoke about their relationship, even in the confidence of close friends and family. Maybe her brother thought Heero was using her, but if so she didn't know how to explain to him the truth so that he would believe it. Heero still didn't like discussing their relationship or discussing himself, but she was patient with him. It was strange enough for him to simply be with her. It didn't matter. Heero loved her with a passion that was sometimes frightening. She could see it in his eyes, feel it in his touch. Just thinking of him made her shiver. 

She was only mildly surprised when Heero appeared outside the glass door of the shower, probably getting something from the cabinet. Yet he stopped and she could feel his eyes trying to outline her through the glass. Abruptly, he slid back the glass door of the shower and stepped in under the water, seizing her about the waist.

"Heero?" she gasped, but he quieted her with a soft, love-laden look. He pressed her back against the slick tiled wall with rough hands and fiercer kisses, his hands slipping down her arms because of the soap. All extraneous thoughts flew right out of her head and she smiled, pulling him close to her.   


*****

Damion didn't remember what he had been dreaming, but it caused him to wake with some confusion. 

"Prince Regent?" 

Damion Ravineere opened his eyes slowly, groggily. It was the middle of the night. "What?" he said in a voice thick with sleep, rising up on his elbows. What could they possibly want with him at this hour? As he roused himself, he caught the look in the eyes of the servant who had awoken him and sat bolt right up in alarm. "What has happened?" he demanded. Behind the man by his bed he saw his personal servant Manny, standing in the doorway with a lit candle in his hand and such a strange and sympathetic expression on his face that Damion swallowed. Manny might be sympathetic sometimes, but not this obviously.

"Prince Regent," Manny said in a thick, slow and formal voice. "The Queen, your mother, requests your presence." 

Damion paled as the meaning in that title of address suddenly clicked in his head.

*****   


The sound of the sea was like music, the crashing of the waves harmonizing with the cries of the seagulls as they called to one another in the sky, their voices drifting far across the beaches and the hills beyond. It was only in places of such serenity that Audrey Veron found comfort of late, where the waves lapped against the sand and retreated again, in and out all day and all night in steady rhythm without rest, forever and ever. There was no hurry, no fuss, no demands, and no understanding of the downspiral rush of time. 

Perched as she was upon one of a line of large jagged stones, like the humps of some sea serpent's back out of the water, Audrey Veron felt just short of airborne, almost floating in the ocean itself. Waves broke occasionally fierce against her rocky pedestal, sending salty spray up into her pale face, wetting dark brown hair or splashing the breezy white material of her dress, its hem covering her feet just to the toes. In happier days she would have smiled, but her bitterness was dark and heavy, and all things grew dim and shadowed in her sight. 

"My lady Audrey, your father requests your presence." 

Audrey turned her head to see one of the maids from her father's estates standing in a gray dress and cloak a dozen feet away, her thin and bony face harboring a mouth set in a disapproving line. Well, she had expected it. 

"Very well," she said smoothly with all the countenance duty demanded.

Nodding, she swung her legs around until she could put her feet under her. She stood with the support of one hand, shifting her weight as the sea wind blew her white dress tight around her legs, damp and clingy in patches. Stepping carefully down until her feet touched the grass, she stood alone at the base of the rocks, the bare skin of her arms covered in goose bumps from the sudden cold the breeze brought. The old woman smiled as she approached, wrapped a white shawl about Audrey's shoulders and gently pushed long, dark brown hair from the pale creamy skin of Audrey's face, tucking it behind her ears. Audrey managed a small smile. 

"You're a pretty girl, dear," the old woman said with a slight accent and a tart tone. "But too sad. Your mother's death affects you still, doesn't it?" Audrey did not reply. The woman's eyes softened. "Your father loves you," she said, as if trying to convince her, but sighed after a moment when Audrey did not respond. "You shouldn't be so stubborn," she said in mounting irritation. "You know you are bound to your father's house unless you marry." 

Which she may soon if the rumors were true and she could not prevent it. "I wouldn't marry if it were up to me alone," Audrey said half in defiance and half with a true sense of loathing in her breast. "I would remain here until my father's death and run my own affairs." But there wasn't enough to support her indefinitely. She knew there wasn't.

"That's a wicked thing to say," the maid mumbled gruffly, but there was no harshness in her voice. It was not the first time Audrey had declared such a desire, and few any longer took much notice of it. "You will change your mind I think. It's what's best for you, for everyone." 

Audrey said nothing in return, allowing herself to be led home in silence. She knew no man greater than her father, and him she had grown to hate as much as love for his neglect, as her mother had before her, and nothing in her experience had convinced her that there was anything more to be offered by way of romance. Indeed, her experiences had destroyed any hope of such expectation. She believed in neither love nor marriage. That she would have to accept the latter without the former was no trouble, but she wished she could dispense with both. 

She knew why her father wanted to see her. She had heard the news.  


*****

Heero rubbed his neck, blinked his eyes tiredly and returned his attention to the clipboard perched on his knees. With meticulous skill, he thumbed through the pages, skimming the words and circling or underlining clauses or paragraphs that needed to be revised. 

He sat in a wooden chair by the wall of one of Relena's offices, tilting back the entire chair into the wall so he wouldn't have to hunch over and develop a pain in his back. He smiled when he came to the last page of the shipping contract and deposited the entire clipboard on the desk with three other legal documents before reaching for another, thinking how pleased she would be to find so much work already done. She trusted him with this sort of thing, and it pleased him to please her. 

There came a knock on the wall (the door being open), and Heero turned to see Zechs step into the office and give him a look that took him in from the tips of his boots to the top of his head in one glance. Heero did not change his expression as Zechs stared at him for another few long seconds and then looked once about the empty room. His brow creased in frustration. 

"Where is she?" Zechs asked at last. 

Heero shook his head and went back to studying the report before him. "I don't know," he said. "Her meeting got out a half hour ago. Maybe she went to get her mail." 

Zechs snorted and turned to leave. "If you see my wife or my sister, tell them I am going to Preventor Headquarters." 

Heero nodded. "Anything I should know about?" Probably something to do with the anti-government campaigning in the West. 

"I don't know," Zechs said curtly. "Lady Une just called me in." 

Heero nodded again and went back to studying his document. He felt Zechs staring at him for another few moments, but when he looked up, the man was gone. Heero let out a tired breath and forcibly relaxed. Zechs was not intimidating as an opponent or a comrade, but for some reason, as Relena's close relation, he made Heero highly uncomfortable. It wasn't that Zechs disapproved of Heero. On the contrary, he had mentioned before that if he were to entrust Relena to anybody, it would be him, but something was still strange. It was rather new, and one of the puzzling things that had been bothering Heero lately. 

Abruptly, the phone on Relena's desk rang. Heero stared at it for a moment, wondering if he should answer it or not. Might as well. Shifting his weight forward pushed the chair back to the ground with a light thump and Heero stood and crossed the short space to the desk in one fluid motion. Leaning over, he reached for the phone. 

"Relena's office," he said in a monotone. 

"Heero, it _is_ Relena. If you're going to answer my phone, could you do it without sounding so morbid? I thought I'd called a funeral house." Her speech was so clear, so articulate, so emotionally controlled, he knew she'd just been public speaking. 

He smiled. "Maybe I just won't answer your phone. Why are you calling here? Is something wrong?" 

"I tried to reach your cell, but you didn't answer." 

"I left it at your house." 

He could sense her blushing in fond remembrance through the wires and smiled again. He'd made them both late this morning and they had both left in a little bit of a rush. 

"Heero," she began again, clearing her throat, and he caught the change, the note of solemnity in her tone. He cleared his head of other thoughts and tensed up, wondering what was wrong. "Damion's on the other line. He called during my meeting." 

"What's happened?" Heero asked. He had not spoken to Damion in nearly two months. 

"His father died." 

"When?" Heero exclaimed in some shock. Jacob Ravineere, King of Taravren, dead? He tried to remember if he had heard rumors about his health prior to this. He thought he had, but he had not paid much attention.

"Last night, a heart attack. It'll probably be in the afternoon paper. Damion wants the both of us to come down for awhile. He sounds rather stressed out." She sounded really upset too. 

"Is he still on the line? Can you put him through?" 

"I can put us on three-way calling," Relena said. A moment later, there was a slight change in the sound coming through the phone as a third line was added. 

"Damion?" Heero questioned. 

"Hey, Heero." Damion's voice was even, but it had a touch of forced control to it, a sort of strained tension. That was probably to be expected.

"I'm sorry about you father," Heero said automatically. He could feel Relena there too, quiet, but present. "Is there anything we can do?" 

"Plan an extended visit if you can," Damion said. "I need people I can depend on here. The next couple of days are going to be really hard on me. You know I wouldn't say so if I didn't consider you friends." 

He meant more than dealing with his father's death. Damion was emotional, but not easily unstrung, and had in the past few years developed amazing surety and solid confidence despite his sensitivity. He had undergone a prince's training all his life, or so Heero understood it, but was usually not something he exercised to the extreme. He was probably taught to bear a steady countenance in a crisis, especially since the stability of a nation's leader was indicative of the stability of the government itself. To hear him shaken meant he was being open with them, but it was a little unnerving. He sounded both rushed and tired, exhausted and anxious. 

"How much time do you have?" Relena asked quietly. . 

Damion took a deep breath. "Six months, maybe a year before my... presidential inauguration." 

"Coronation," Heero translated for his own benefit. Damion would be a King before the year was up. 

"I became Prince Regent the moment I was awoken late last night," Damion responded with more control than was reasonable. He was trying too hard, and Heero caught the strain in his voice. "That's how they told me my father was dead." 

"Oh my God," Relena exclaimed. "Are you okay?" 

"I've been grieving, but I've also been kept busy. My relationship with my father has always been a little professional, you know, especially in the last ten years or so. He was a reserved man and somewhat distant, but I loved him and I was not ready for him to..."

"No, of course not," Relena said. "He's your father. Oh, Damion, I am so sorry. I don't know what to say."

"Thank you. It wasn't entirely unexpected. He's been sick since Christmas, but we all thought... I don't know. I would just like to have more friends around. There is a lot going on. I have to take care of my mother; she's not doing well, and I'm Prince Regent, so I have to do everything that that entails. I'm trained for it, but it's a lot to think about, and it's making my father's death too real too soon." 

"I understand and we're coming," Relena said immediately. "Today if possible, tomorrow at latest. What do you need us to do?" 

"Just be here," he said. "I have plenty of staff to delegate the responsibility of running Taravren. That's not the problem." 

"What's the problem?" Heero asked. Damion already had a lot on his plate, more than most people could handle alone, but there was something else he hadn't yet said. Damion was young, but he had grown up with this. What else was expected of him so suddenly that he was not saying? 

"God, this is going to sound crazy," Damion muttered and Heero got the sense he had been babbling before to fill space trying to build up to this. Heero waited. "This hasn't happened in a long time, a king dying so young I mean," Damion began. "Normally, the heir is already self-sufficient, with personal estates and a family and a dependable staff. My father was thirty-five when he became King. Things being as they are in the world, that familiarity can not change. There's been too much change and chaos already. The Lords are calling for stability and assurance that the succession is secure." 

"Damion, what are saying?" Relena pressed. 

"Before my... coronation as Heero put it, I should be married." 

"I'm sorry?" Relena said blankly. 

"I need to have a wife, or at least someone who looks like she's going to be my wife really soon." 

"Whatever for?" Relena exclaimed in amazement. "You can't tell me there's never been an unmarried king. I thought you decided to believe in love?" 

"I do, but you don't understand. Whether I marry now or after the ceremony, I still must marry to have children, and I must marry someone rather particular. Single men who were crowned in the past marry love. They married rank and connections. That's technically how I should behave too, to always put what's best for Taravren first."

"You're right. I don't understand," Relena mumbled. "Why did you date _me_?" 

"I made an immature decision. I thought love and ladyship should be the only requirements, but I was wrong. I told you my parents disapproved, not because of who you are, but because of what I am. Things in Taravren right now need to be as traditional as they possibly can be. The Council Lords have drawn up a list. With the way things are now, there's about a handful of girls I can choose from for a wife and they're all coming this weekend to meet me." 

Shocked silence. 

"You haven't met these girls?" Heero ventured, highly bewildered. "And you have to marry one in as soon as six months?" 

"Yes," Damion replied with forced, grim conviction. "Some I know pretty well, some I've only seen at formal functions or heard about. I don't really like the ones I know, not enough to be happy marrying any of them anyway. Of course, that won't really matter in the end, but..." he trailed off. 

"I get it," Heero said. 

"Damion," Relena said quietly, sadly. "What about love?" 

"I believe it's still possible, but that doesn't change the fact that I still have to get married in under a year. I just hope God's looking out for me. Ideally, I would love a girl before I married her, but that's not how it worked out with my parents." 

"This is crazy," Relena protested. "Why did you invite these girls _this_ weekend? You can't handle all of this. Your father just died." 

"I know," Damion said sadly. "But that's part of the reason I did it, and it was my mother's idea. The nation needs to know I'm looking and people will be in the city for the funeral. I don't think this is going to be easy for anybody, and I know that with all this pressure I'm going to get very confused. That's why I need you here." 

"Is there a preference among any of the girls that are coming?" Relena asked. "Or is just any one you like best?" 

"There's rank involvement and a hierarchy of the eligible girls. Some offer more in way of stability for the nation, girls of rank or family the other Lords would prefer in such a position as my wife, and I must give them more consideration and attention. In the end, I may not have much of a choice." 

Heero frowned. Damion was hedging again. For some reason, Heero felt that Damion had a pretty good idea who was most likely to be his wife. It would be his business to know after all. "So if you had to marry someone tomorrow," Heero asked frankly, "having never met anybody, who would it be?" 

"You mean who the Lords would choose?" Damion said. He paused. "Audrey Veron is first choice." 

"Veron?" Relena gasped. "Is that... Clara's sister?" 

"First cousin," Damion said. "It would have been Clara, as you know, but..." There was a moment of silence. 

"You're right," Heero said at long last. "You do have a problem. We'll be in Taravren tonight."   
  


*****  


Audrey stood before her father in silence, alone, straight-backed, her eyes steady and her expression blank. It was impossible not to feel the rift between them, the coldness that had only grown deeper since his return. She was aware that it pained him, her coldness, the cool aloof way in which she paid her dues as his daughter, but it was one of those unfortunate puzzles with no answer; she could not find true forgiveness in her heart for him, and would not fake it. 

"This is important," her father said with such a sudden forcefulness that Audrey swallowed and braced herself. "You are first choice, and the traditions are well observed, but you must want it, convince him that he wants it. Such disguised blessings must be grasped; they do not just happen. Don't you realize how lucky you are?" The eyes of her father were a clear, piercing blue, his countenance kingly, controlling, determined. It had become so recently, in the two years since his return, for in her childhood she remembered him joyful, wild and full of energy, so much so that he could or would not stay with the family he professed to love. His concern for her now was evident, but she found herself rebelling by habit, unhappy in his presence, knowing she must please him because he was her father and deserved her love and obedience, things which once she had given freely. 

Lucky, he said. Was her mother lucky? "I know," she said, and didn't know whether to be tart or meek in this matter. She kept her hands clasped behind her back, twisting the amethyst ring on her finger. "I will marry him if I must, if that is my duty, but I will do nothing to contrive such an affair by guile." 

"You are as stubborn as your mother," her father muttered half to himself, but Audrey heard and held back the sudden sting of tears and a sharp retort. "_Please_ be at your best," he pleaded soothingly, and it was painful to hear him plead on her behalf. "You may need this more than you know. Your safety and stability is important to me. I will not be around forever, nor is there enough wealth left in these after-war times to sustain you when I am gone, not unmarried. You could be very happy." 

She was silent, feeling the unfairness of it all, but there was no way to escape, not unless the prince refused her. 

"Your things are packed?" her father asked quietly. 

She nodded. 

"Good. You depart for the city in the morning." 

Please Review!! 


	2. A Room Together

audrey2 To those of you who are confused, relationships stand thus: Heero and Relena are together but not married, Zechs has married Noin, Duo and Hilde have an on-again-off-again relationship, as do Manny and Terese. I believe everybody else is single. These would probably all become apparent, but there it is just so you know. All right, on with the story.   
  
  


Temper the Soul 

Chapter 2 

by zapenstap 

  
  
  
  
  


Heero and Relena arrived in Taravren late that same night and were welcomed into the palace by the staff, dressed completely in black for the somber occassion. Nevertheless, servants took their bags with weary smiles and guided them to rooms brightly and expensively furnished in expectation of their arrival. 

"Things certainly are in a rush here," Relena murmured, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear and smoothing her skirt. 

They set down their things and took the opportunity to walk about the rooms in some bemused appreciation, admiring the plush carpet that sunk beneath their feet and the gorgeous draperies that hung over the windows. Relena opened a double panel door to the bedroom and beckoned Heero over with one hand. He came, striding across the room, and peered over her shoulder at a master bedroom with a complete vanity, full closets, bathroom and one enormous bed. 

It came to him that they were alone here. It wasn't Relena's apartments, or his dark little room, or the Cinq Castle. They didn't have to be so careful here. They had to be careful in Cinq, very careful, so careful it drove him nuts, and her too. It wasn't a secret that they were dating, but what came of that had to be kept vague at the very least. She was a Representative for the Earth after all, and he somewhat of a heroic figure to people who knew enough about what actually happened in the war to notice, but their being in love wasn't enough to warrant an openly serious relationship. Their friends knew. It was impossible to keep that sort of thing a secret from everybody, and Heero knew Relena had more or less conveyed the status of their relationship to her brother and Noin. That was a large part of what made him uncomfortable around Zechs. He didn't wish she had lied, or remained silent, but it still made him uncomfortable, even agitated. All those half-concealed, disapproving looks by people she loved and they both respected made him nervous about just touching her, being close to her, much less what went on behind closed doors. Maybe that had been part of the reason behind their escapade early this morning, to remind himself he could have her if he wanted her, that she wanted him to have her. 

But here no one was watching them now. It was just them, in a their mutual space for a change, and everyone around either didn't care about their relationship or approved. And she looked beautiful. He rested one hand in a familiar way around her waist and was just thinking of removing her coat when there came a knock at their door. 

They both pulled away from each other abruptly, flushing. He was standing three feet away before he even thought twice about it. It irriated him, more than it should have. So much for not having to worry about being careful. 

Relena rushed to answer the door and Heero immediately forgot about his irritation when he remembered the real reason he had come to Taravren. Damion bowed to them both when the door was opened, lingering a moment in the hallway. There was a parade of counselors, petitioners, and various attendants on his heels, consulting one another in hushed, hurried tones. Damion smiled apologetically at them and turned to his people, begging time alone. His train of followers grumbled, bowed and departed in various degrees of contentment. Some looked rather vexed. Damion entered Heero and Relena's apartment and shut the door softly behind him, sighing. 

Heero just shook his head, amazed the guy could handle all this activity in the wake of such personal trauma, but he said nothing of it. Damion looked polished and confident, dressed well in a white dress shirt and an expensive coat, but there was a distinct tightness in his face and a hint of redness about the pale gray eyes that were usually so striking with his dark hair. 

"I'm sorry I was unable to meet you at the door," he apologized formally. "I really am glad that you're here." 

Relena walked over an gave him a hug, which he accepted in some surprise and great relief. "You don't have to try to entertain us," she said. "You have enough to worry about. Heero and I will be fine. We're here to offer you some relief, not add to your difficulties." 

He regarded her gratefully and then crossed the room and grasped Heero's hand. "Thank you for coming," he said simply. 

Heero nodded. "What can we do to help?" Relena walked over to stand beside him, taking his hand in her own behind her back, interlacing their fingers. 

Damion took a deep breath. "I have some political matters to take care of presently. My father's funeral is scheduled for this coming Sunday and there's a lot that has to be done. My mother and the staff are arranging most of it, but I need to sign some waivers and things." He trailed off, squeezing his eyes shut, but continued presently. "My regency celebration is tomorrow, which entails a short ceremony. You don't have to go to that, but the following festivities is where I will meet all the girls as well as other influential members of the country who will be arriving." 

Heero and Relena nodded. "Then don't worry about us tonight," Relena assured him. "We will see you after the ceremony tomorrow. Is it a festive occasion?" 

"Somewhat," Damion replied. "There will be some activities, races, gambling probably, perhaps a few exhibitions, but it will be a subdued sort of celebration because it preludes a funeral. It's done more to release tension than anything else." He paused and looked over his shoulder in some agitation 

"Go work and rest tonight," Relena urged with a smile. "I know you're busy. We will see you tomorrow." 

Damion nodded wearily, thanked them again, and quietly exited. It was then that Heero noticed how truly tired the guy was. 

Relena sighed once the door was closed and sat down on one of the couches, removing her shoes. "I'm going to take a shower, Heero," she said, stretching her arms above her head. "And then I'm going to check out that huge bed in the other room, where I assume you'll join me later?" She smiled at him. 

His stomach tightened and a flash of lightning shot up to his heart. It wasn't a sexual reaction, and rather suprised him. 

She bit her bottom lip in a cute way and made toward the bathroom without waiting for an answer, piling her hair on the top of her head. 

Heero's initial smile slipped as he watched her go, and he wondered at himself. What was wrong? That bed had looked inviting to him when they arrived, just moments ago, and should seem twice as inviting with her in it, preferrably unclothed, but instead the sensation he got was dread. He shook himself. Just two minutes ago he was ready to sleep with her, but something had changed. First his irritations when they were interrupted, and then that feeling in his gut. It was not her, he knew. He loved her; she was beautiful and perfect and loved him equally. What then, was making him feel uneasy? 

It was not Damion. He didn't even think about Damion in relation to Relena anymore, and hadn't since he won her. The only thing he could decipher was that it was Taravren. This was, after all, where he had won her, where she had confessed her love for him, where he had almost died to hear it. The emotional involvement was strong, very stong. It was more than a place where they simply weren't watched. Why then, would it decrease his passion for her? 

Heero walked about the apartments Damion had set up for them to ease his agitation. There was a room merely for entertaining and also a bedroom and a bathroom and closets. It was almost like a minature little house. Heero walked to the bedroom and stared at the bed, at the polished cheerywood posts, at the pillows and blankets. He thought of Relena, of taking off her robe and carassing her skin, of kissing her neck and feeling her bare arms wrap around his neck. The thought excited him, but at the same time distrubed him. His brow furred and he sat in a chair by the bed, propping one boot on the arm, thinking. 

After her shower, Relena walked into the room in her bath robe and found him still in the chair, staring at the bed, fully clothed and only half aware of her. She rubbed her hair with a towel, drying and tangling it. When he didn't get up, she approached him slowly and touched his shoulder suggestively. 

He shook her off. "Not tonight, Relena," he said quietly. 

She pulled her fingers back, repelled. "All right, Heero," she said softly, her hand hovering above his shoulder. He didn't really notice the confusion in her tone, he was so confused, but he took her hand and kissed it to show his affection and then got up to go out on the balcony, leaving her in her bath robe by the bed to puzzle his strange reaction alone. 

***** 

Damion sunk wearily in his bed at three in the morning, exhausted, one leg hanging over the side and one arm flung over his head. He concentrated on breathing. The room was cloaked in the blue-black darkness of night, full of comforting shadows and the promises of rest, yet plans and propositions ran through his head still in unceasing waves. Though fatiqued to the point of sickness, he couldn't close his eyes. In his mind he saw his father's face when he was still alive, went over their last conversation in his head--a political debate about anarchy, since it had been growing popular in some places--and shuddered. His father was dead. It was so hard to grasp. But he saw his mother weeping, robed in black, her face tear-stained, her eyes red and blurry. He feared he must look something like that, and knew he could not afford such lack of composure. He had not been able to cry today, had not shed a tear since he found out. There were too many people, too many things to do to allow him that sort of weakness. So now he lay on his bed fully clothed, even to his shoes, and let tears flow out of his eyes and over his cheeks for an hour, maybe two. At some point he fell asleep, and was awakened by a newly hired servant at six am. He rose wearily, feeling even more haggard, as if he had not slept at all. But there was no help for it. He would be declared Prince Regent at noon, and there was much to do before then. Directly after that, he had a party to attend, and some girls to impress. If he had not been exhausted to the point of death, he would have laughed at himself. 

***** 

"Quatre, are you sure this is the place?" Duo asked, looking about, his hands on his hips. Hilde stood beside him, smiling as she peered about. Duo scratched his head. "It looks more like a fair than a funeral." 

In a large park near the palace, people were milling everywhere, most smiling and laughing, walking alone or in groups, with friends or family. Almost everyone was dressed up to some degree, some more than others. Quatre noticed some girls in dresses that were almost gowns, and wondered if some of them were the girls Damion was supposed to meet. 

"Yeah," the blonde gundam pilot assured him. "There was a ceremony at noon and now a celebration party of sorts." 

"Come on, Duo," Hilde laughed brightly, tugging at his arm. "We might as well enjoy ourselves while we're here. I've never been to Taravren before." 

"Ah, all right, Hilde," Duo agreed, "but remember we're really here to support Damion and visit with Heero and Relena." 

Quatre smiled at the pair of them as he adjusted a twisted gold cuff link on his sleeve. They were cute together, though they couldn't seem to decide for sure whether they were a couple or merely friends. He believed they were dating again now. 

"Hey," Duo said suddenly, and pointed. "I think I see them over there." 

Quatre looked to where a great mass of people had gathered on and about some erected stands, looking out at what appeared to be a horse vaulting show. A space in the stands near the front had been roped off like a booth. There Quatre could clearly see Relena as she stood on Heero's right, chatting amiably with who was unmistakenly Damion, standing on her left. It was clearly Damion because he was decked out in all his formal wear, robes of cream and gold embroidery, even to a silver circlet about his head. Even as Quatre and the others watched, he removed his robe, folded it carefully and handed in to a man who passed him on his left. Straightening in a white dress shirt he said something to Heero, who appeared to shrug and nod without much comment. 

"The ceremony must have just ended," Quatre mused. "Should we join them?" 

"Can we?" Hilde asked. "I mean, this guy's Prince Regent of Taravren, right? Isn't that basically a King without the official ceremony?" 

Hilde has a strange way of putting everything into questions when she was anxious. Quatre smiled at her. "Well, yeah, but he invited us to come around whenever we want, and Heero and Relena are friends of his, and we are friends of their's." 

Duo chuckled. "Don't worry about it, Hilde. Damion's a really nice guy. He won't mind." 

Hilde regarded him dubiously as they made for the stands, still clinging to Duo's arm. 

"Hey, Heero!" Duo called, waving his other hand. "Damion, Relena, nice to see ya!" 

Relena smiled at them and she leaned over, her hair spilling over her shoulder. "Quatre, Hilde, Duo," she welcomed them, her smile lighting up her face. 

"Come join us," Damion said, half turning. He and Heero were staring out at the performing area, where a horse was being trotted around in a circle by a long leading leash. Heero didn't look at them, but Quatre hadn't really expected him to. "I was just pointing out to Heero and Relena some of the girls," Damion continued as Quatre and the others clambered up on the stands. 

"Have you met any yet?" Quatre inquired. 

"Several," Damion replied. "They were all at the ceremony, and a few introduced themselves afterward." 

"Any nice, pretty ones?" Duo asked. 

Damion laughed. "A few," he admitted, "but I still have to meet Audrey Veron before I can even consider any of the others." 

"Huh," Duo said. "Where is she?" 

Damion nodded to the vaulting circle. Quatre noticed how his eyes were tight and a little shadowed from lack of sleep, but didn't say anything. It wasn't really something to be wondered about. He remembered all the work there was for _him_ to do right after the war, even for a business that his sisters mostly managed. Damion had a country to rule. Quatre turned his attention to the valuting circle, where a young woman had swung up onto the horse's back while it was trotting in a circle. 

"Why are we watching this?" Duo asked as the girl tilted up into a headstand on the horse's shoulders. "Whoa! Neat." 

"That's Audrey," Heero informed him, crossing his arms. The girl flipped back down gracefully and proceeded to stand up on the saddle. 

"I'm going to go talk to her when she's done performing," Damion said. His gray eyes were focused on the girl rather intently. 

"She's pretty," Quatre said. Or she seemed to be from this distance. "She's not smiling, though." 

Damion nodded. "Yeah, she's pretty," he repeated Quatre's comment softly, and Quatre caught a note of true affection rather than cynicism in his voice. Damion was staring at her almost as if he were surprised, pleasantly so. Was he perhaps taken by her so quickly? He looked it, but Quatre believed Damion was the type to give his best to any situation, to reserve no feelings of goodwill. If he was expected to marry this girl before all others, he would make every conscious effort to make it work, but Quatre suspected too that the Prince was genuinely struck to the heart by her appearance, and that that was why he looked so pleasantly surprised. 

"Maybe you'll get lucky," Quatre encouraged with a smile. "Fate could have a way of working this out for you. You deserve it." 

"I still have to talk to her," he said, and nothing in his tone betrayed the peculiar look Quatre had noticed in his eyes. "Should I go alone or take someone with me?" 

"You're the prince," Heero said. Relena hit him lightly in the arm. He took her hand and held it, seemingly almost unconscious of doing so. Quatre smiled again. He could see the affection between them. It had been wild for awhile, but it had settled since last time they were in Taravren, flowing, so to speak, beneath the surface like an old stream. As Heero's hand curled around Relena's fingers, she leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. 

Damion smiled at them fondly and looked again over at Audrey. She had just dismounted to applause. He clapped. 

"Go alone," Hilde suggested. "You might spook her if you bring a parade with you. Oh, is she looking this way?" she exclaimed, leaning over the rail. 

Damion nodded and said nothing, merely smiling and watching her. "She knows who I am," he said, and his face scrunched up some. He took a deep breath. "I'd better talk to her." He looked nervous. 

Audrey made a light bow and turned, walking out of of the arena. She looked back at all of them once she was out of the circle, and then dissapeared in the crowd. 

Damion took a deep breath. "All right. I'm going." 

"Good luck," Relena said, still clapping as she smiled at him over her shoulder. "And don't worry so much. You'll be fine." 

"Yeah," Duo seconded. "You'll do great. Hey, where's that Manny guy anyway?" 

"Busy," Damion said. "He's been a little spooked since I became Regent. He's been fighting with Terese lately too." 

"Oh, anything serious?" Quatre asked as Damion wove his around them. 

"No. Just their usual squabbles. The whole staff has just been really busy lately with all that's going on. I've gotta go." 

"Huh," Duo said. "Bye." 

"Good luck," Quatre said. 

Damion smiled, ducked under the ropes and jumped off the bleachers. He was immediately accosted by several official looking men, but waved them off with hasty words and elegant gestures. He then hurried in the direction Audrey had taken. 

"This is so weird," Duo said with a laugh. 

"No kidding," Hilde seconded. 

"I think it's sad," Quatre said. "Damion's a really great guy. What if it doesn't work out?" 

They all fidgeted a little uncomfortably. 

"Don't worry about Damion," Heero said suddenly, surprising them. He had not said much in the way of conversation, not even a greeting. Not that anyone one had exactly expected a joyous welcome from Gundam Pilot 01. "No one believes in love like he does," Heero continued. "If anyone can make it work, he can." 

"Besides," Relena said, supporting Heero like she always did, but sincerely voicing her own opinion. Not surprising, since they thought alike. "Damion's a prince, and a wonderful man. A girl would be a fool not to love him." 

Heero looked at her with those dark piercing eyes and she smiled at him, leaning her head again on his shoulder. She whispered something softly, her chin tilted up to one side. Emotion swam in Heero's eyes, clouds of love and affection and gentle tenderness. Duo rolled his eyes, but Quatre and Hilde both smiled. Neither Heero nor Relena seemed to notice. Relena closed her eyes and a different expression crossed Heero's face briefly. Quatre blinked and wondered. It almost looked like doubt. 

***** 

Damion searched vainly for the dark haired girl he had lost in the crowd. She had been wearing navy blue dress clothes, billowy silk pants tied at the waist and a matching top with a triangular collar that just bared the shoulders. When he first saw her, it was a shock, like a bolt of lightning to the heart. 

She was a lovely girl, prettier even the pictures he had seen. Her hair was dark brown, almost black in certain lighting, much like his own, and her eyes were large, brown, and set in a face that had seemed flawless, at least from a distance. Her skin was pale, white as cream, but with her dark eyes and hair it gave her a look of cool winter, of bare trees and snow. It had been difficult to make out her features with any clear certainty, but he could tell that she was beautiful. 

It had shocked him, seeing her and finding himself so enamored so suddenly. He had met a lot of girls today, even a lot of pretty girls, but he was moved by none of them. They had been whimsical, flattering and insincere for the most part. Audrey had not sought him out, though he knew she must know him. He didn't know if it was because she was confident, knowing they must meet and making him come to her, or if she simply was not interested. At this point, he didn't care. He had to meet her, to see what she was like. He feared his heart might lead him astray, his head knowing she was first choice and his eyes telling him how pretty she was, but he hoped Quatre Winner was right, that fate would prove lucky, or God charitable. 

Abruptly, he saw her, standing alone by a fence, looking out at the gardens in the park with a somewhat melancholy, thoughtful expression. 

She turned when he approached, and he swallowed, hesitating. Her eyes were sharp, dark brown like polished cherrywood, and not overly friendly. But that was not what put him off. Audrey looked a little like Clara, just enough to bring flashes of her to his mind, dying in his arms, gasping that she had loved him all her life. He froze, his stomach tingling as Audrey straightened, brushing brown hair from her shoulders. It had a little bit of natural curl to it, just enough to give it thickness and body, and also making it cling to her cheeks and neck. She was taller than both Relena or Clara, slender and self-possessed of poise and grace, but there was an independence to her posture that was somewhat intimidating as she regarded him somewhat like an interference. 

"Prince Damion," she greeted him, and bowed. Had she been wearing a dress, she would have curtseyed, he was sure of it. He couldn't tell if it was done with reverence or mockery. Both made him nervous. When she straightened, she still had not smiled. 

"Greetings, Miss Veron," he greeted her a little clumsily. Her self-possession was throwing him out of sorts. He couldn't remember the first thing about charm. He stumbled on persistently, though, his mind grasping anxiously for words. He wanted to be casual with her, but couldn't seem to cut the formality from his tongue. God, he was so tired. "I haven't yet had the pleasure of making your aquaintence." 

She just looked at him for several seconds in silence. "You're the prince," she said a little tartly. "Well met." 

He recoiled somewhat at her rudeness. "Hold on," he said sharply, losing some of his grace. "What do you mean by that?" 

"Nothing," she replied, turning toward the garden, her eyes shadowed. She grasped the rails of the little black fence that separated her from the flowers, her knuckles turning white. "They're just words. I apologize." 

"They're very uncivil words," he said, swallowing. "I was merely saying hello." 

She made a little noise in her throat that was clearly an indication of disbelief. "Do you really want to marry me?" she asked flatly, turning again. 

He stared at her, speechless. 

"You should look elsewhere," she continued, her gaze sliding down to the ground. "I wouldn't make you a proper wife." She made as if to walk away. 

Well that was blunt honesty if he ever heard it. He swallowed and lost his hold on proper countenance. He grabbed her wrist. "Wait, hold on a minute," he said a little angrily, and released her hastily when she glared at him. "I apologize," he said, standing closer to her than really made him comfortable, "but why would you say something like that?" She stared up at him through dark lashes, defiant, her eyebrows lowered in indignation. She thought she might have very pretty eyes, if she would stop looking so angry. 

"I have no desire to marry," she said, but did not step away, perhaps out of stubborness. "I'm sorry. I told my father I would try, but now that I am here I do not see how it is possible." 

His first reaction was to be personally offended that she would not even consider him, but then he realized it wasn't him that repulsed her, but marriage in general. "Look," he said, trying to forestall her. He could repay her in frankness if nothing else, and he would not be persuaded to give up so easily. "This isn't a situation I would have chosen for myself, but don't brush me off so casually. Don't you think we should at least get to know each other?" 

She looked at him for several seconds, staring into his eyes. Slowly, puzzlement stole over her face, as if she saw something she did not expect. He looked at her in earnest, breathing with more energy than was really necessary. "Whatever for?" she asked at last, quietly this time. 

"I understand that you wouldn't want to marry a stranger," he persisted. "Neither do I. If I could choose my own destiny as easily as I could command a new park built, I would wait for love. But matters being what they are, I have chosen to make the best of it. I am not asking you to make a committment of any kind, but I think I could take pleasure in your company if you would have me. You don't have to marry me, or even be my friend, but don't spurn me so thoughtlessly. I'd like to know you better." 

"A new park?" she repeated, distracted. For a moment, the hostility on her face slipped. He felt a surge of something in his gut as a small smile crept across her face. All of her features seemed to change with it. Her eyes sparkled, bewitching him, though she seemed unaware of it. "All right," she agreed. "Perhaps I have made a mistake. I guess I will make better your aquaintence, but I promise nothing." 

He grinned, unable to stop himself. "That's okay," he said, perhaps a touch too quickly. "Can I invite you to a tour of the city tomorrow, or the countryside?" 

"Alone or among friends?" she asked suspiciously. 

"Either," he said, "friends, if it would make you feel more comfortable." 

"All right," she agreed slowly, dubiously. " I would like to see the countryside." 

"I'll find you tomorrow then," he said, and had a desire to kiss the back of her hand, but didn't. "Good afternoon." 

He left her hastily, his heart racing. For a second there, he thought he was going to get kicked over a cliff. Of all the things he feared this weekend, rejection was least among them. He had been more worried about manipulation, seduction and insincerity, not rudeness. He was troubled by it, but equally elated that she had agreed to at least spend more time with him. There was a chance she would change her mind. He didn't know about marrying her, but he thought he might like the girl beneath all that open aversion and hostility. If he could manage to dispel it. Then again, she was first choice. What if this was some elaborate ploy to attract him, to single herself out from the other girls? He'd almost forgotten there _were_ other girls. He had better be careful, but then, he had only agreed to a date. If she was false, he would know it soon enough, but until then, he was inclined to believe her merely agitated by the situation, fears he hoped he could vanquish in time. 

***** 

Audrey watched Prince Damion Ravineere walk away in some confusion. He was beautiful, more so than she had been led to believe. He had surprised her, being so open so quickly. Was he a fool, or simply honest? The sincerity in his eyes confounded her. When he smiled at her, she had almost felt something, horrifying as it was. She did not know why she agreed to meet him again, unless it be to appease her father's expectations of her conduct, but once he was gone she had an impression of those bright, beautiful gray eyes imprinted on her mind, and couldn't shake the image all the rest of the day.   
  
  
  
  


  
This took longer than I thought. I was supposed to be up sooner, but oh well. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE review. It encourages me to write more and I take note of everything that's said. Comments, compliments and critiques are all welcome. Don't worry, there are twists to come! And what is up with Heero? Any guesses? [Email me][1]

   [1]: mailto:zapenstap@yahoo.com



	3. The Infamous Julia

Temper the Soul 

Chapter 3 

by zapenstap 

  
  
  
  
  
  


Audrey hung up the phone and stared at the mirror above her vanity, at her face mostly, letting the shapes so familiar to her blur together until she could no longer make sense of them. Strange to think that so much depended upon one's appearance when in relation to the world. She had grown up in a small, secluded space, away from the rush and fuss of the world, where everyone knew her by name and sight and mood. She liked this city for its people and practices, for its fresh bustle and entertainment, and adored the hills about, but she wondered if she could ever feel truly comfortable here. It didn't matter. Though she hated it on principle, her father was right. 

A knock sounded at her door. "Come in," she called, seating herself before the vanity and staring into the mirror. Was it the prince? She took deep breaths. _Try to be happy. _But it was hard. She was so confused, and whenever she thought she might be mistaken, the uncertainties she had cultivated for so many years boiled up in her gut. 

The door opened to reveal a girl in blue with wild black hair and a mischievous smile. "Hi, I'm Terese," the girl said, dropping the information casually as she crossed the room, shaking bracelets on her wrists as she reached to pull her hair back. 

"Did the prince send you?" Audrey questioned quietly. She thought she had seen the girl among the palace staff several times, directing the work of others for the most part. But why Prince Damion would send someone to her rooms, even if they _were_ in his palace, baffled her. She didn't particularly relish being fetched for this outing like some retainer. 

"Who?" Terese said, blinking. "Oh, you mean Damion. No. He's haggling with some of the Council Lords about God-only-knows-what and trying to get ready at the same time." She sighed expressively. "I don't know what to do about that boy. He's been working harder than Relena used to and he does _not_ sleep enough. I managed to work it so that he can have most of today off, but I imagine he'll be scheduling more meetings tonight and tomorrow in spite of it." 

Audrey blinked. He wasn't sleeping enough? "If he didn't send you, why did you come?" 

Terese seated herself beside Audrey with a grin, almost like she was an old friend and they had known each other for years. Somewhat bewildered, and, she admitted, pleasantly surprised, Audrey responded in kind. Terese leaned forward, pulling her into close counsel. "_Well_, Manny's been helping Damion all this morning, which is good because they haven't been talking," she put emphasis on this with an animated expression and gestures, but continued without pause. "Manny's been a little weirded out by all the sudden changes," she digressed, shaking her head, "though I imagine it _must_ be weird seeing your best friend become a quasi-king overnight, but it helped him start communicating better with me, so there's a silver lining." Audrey blinked. "Anyway," Terese said, sitting straighter, "since Manny was busy with Damion, I just thought I'd drop in to meet you before the outing and see if you needed anything. It must be strange coming in from the country with all this expectation of matrimony to a total stranger, but honestly, you couldn't do better." 

Audrey laughed. She couldn't help it. It had been a long time since she had had conversation that wasn't formal or guarded or didactic. Her liking for this strange, wild girl was immediate. "You think Damion is a good man then?" 

"Oh yeah," Terese said dismissively as if it were obvious. "Are you going to wear your hair like that, because I think... here, let me try something." She got up on her knees, snagged a clip from the vanity counter and put it in her mouth. Audrey turned in some bewilderment toward the mirror, letting the girl pull some of her hair up on top of her head. Audrey had already spent the morning curling it, but with a few twists, a clip and some bobby pins, Terese arranged it into something beautiful, a bun of dangling curls erected over the rest of the hair that cascaded over her shoulders. "I wish I had hair like this," Terese said thoughtfully, inserting one last bobby pin. "Shake your head." Audrey shook it. "Looks pretty tight," Terese said under her breath, and then picked up the conversation where she left off. "Mine's thick enough to style, but it's not this fine. Oh well, I'm not the one getting married." 

"I haven't agreed to get married," Audrey said without much thought, staring at herself in the mirror in amazement. 

Terese shrugged. "Well, if you do, he's all yours. Manny says he's quite taken with you already, and you _are_ first choice or whatever, which is lucky for him as I understand it. Damion's the kind who falls hard too." 

She felt a strange quiver in her stomach. "What do you mean?" 

"Oh, just that he's picky, but once he decides, he's _decided_. Except for that crazy thing with Relena, I don't think he's ever really liked anybody all that much. I mean, there have been others, but they generally don't last longer than a date or two. A lot of girls have tried to play him, and being so fabulously wealthy, powerful and good looking and all, why wouldn't they? But he doesn't really like that." 

Audrey was silent for a moment. "Why not? Why wouldn't a prince enjoy that kind of attention?" Or any man. 

Terese chuckled. "Because he's a romantic." She smiled at Audrey in the mirror. "He likes _you_ a lot, though, like _really_ a lot, or he does as far as I can tell. Do you like him?" 

"I don't know," she replied quietly. She supposed she liked him, from what she could judge in a few minute's conversation, but she did not think that was what Terese meant. He certainly had beautiful eyes. 

"That's okay," Terese said with another shrug. She stood up. "All right, you're done. Do you want to go down with me? I'll call Damion and tell him just to meet us out front." 

This certainly was...casual. "Are you coming on the outing?" 

"Yeah. Manny and I and Heero and Relena Darilan and some of their friends, Duo and Quatre probably." 

"Who?" Audrey asked, bewildered. So many names... "Relena Darilan, the Vice Foreign Minister?" She had heard the stories, of course, but it was strange to think of going on a picnic with such a figure. 

"Yeah, her and a bunch of gundam pilots, including her boyfriend Heero Yuy." 

"I wasn't aware she had a boyfriend," Audrey replied. 

"Two years now," Terese affirmed with a nod. "Relena gave up Damion for Heero. It was kind of messy but they're all friends again now. I used to work for her. I keep expecting her to call and tell me how's she getting married to that delicious pilot, but she hasn't yet. Oh my God, you should have been there for all the drama before they got together." 

"A good story?" 

"Excellent. Ask Damion to tell it to you." 

"Wouldn't that offend him?" she said in some surprise. Terese did say Relena had left the prince for Heero Yuy, right? 

"Nah, not anymore. He likes the story more than anyone, I think. It encourages him to believe in love or something." She paused, smiling at nothing. "It encourages everybody." Sighing, she looked at her watch. "We should probably get going." 

Audrey nodded in assent. Standing smoothly, she followed Terese out of her rooms.   
  
  
  


***** 

Damion pulled on his riding gloves as he walked down the hall to the foyer, glad at last to be rid of his advisors. Terese's phone call had been the perfect excuse to escape. His advisors were good people actually, indispensable, and he liked some of them rather well, but the constant harping in wake of all that had happened was exhausting. God bless Terese for clearing his day today. Hiring her away from Relena was one of the smartest moves he had ever made. Thanks to her clever delegation, he could concentrate on enjoying a day with his friends... and with Audrey. More than anything he wanted to make her comfortable here, with him, with his friends. He suspected she still saw his title more than she did him, which was useful in dealing with some, but detrimental to the level he wanted to be at with her. He had nothing to fear of her honesty. All accounts of her were favorable, the worst comment being that she was lately melancholy after the death of her mother. He had not known of that tragedy, and sympathized as well as he might, but was relieved that at least there was some explanation for her mood. More than anything he was wanted to see more of that spark of joy he witnessed yesterday, if only for a moment. 

"Prince Damion." 

He turned, startled at the coy, sultry voice that caught at him from behind. "Julia," he said in astonishment. Julia Bureun, the daughter of one of his mother's friends. She leaned provocatively in a doorway as she stared at him through black lashes, luminous blue eyes and sultry lips. Her face glowed in the yellow light, framed by long golden-blonde hair of an almost unnatural vibrancy, curled and pinned in an elaborate style. He shook his head and smiled in some amount of wry fondness. "I wondered from time to time if you would ever come back here," he said easily, meeting her gaze. 

She lowered her eyes artfully and then lifted her head, catching his gaze again just when he thought she had displayed some meekness. A certain shrewdness lingered in her looks, a cleverness Clara had never had, nor anyone else Damion had ever known. Julia was a sly one, pretty as a dove, sharp as a tack, and with no interest in him whatsoever. She was the sort of person one admired even in general contempt of her behavior, because what she did, she did well, and without regret. Julia was ambitious certainly, but selfishly so, and not dangerous, not to him anyway. For some reason, she had always been honest with him, even though she lied like a merchant to everyone else. 

"I couldn't stay away forever," she purred somewhat loftily, licking her lips provactively. He tried not to laugh. "And I heard you were getting married. I had to come and see." 

"Not yet," he said. 

She shrugged and said more soberly. "I also heard about your father. I'm sorry." Her tone actually held real sympathy. As she approached him, the sexual undertones of her looks, movements and tones evaporated. To anyone else, such behavior might have been real, but with him it was all a joke, because she knew he knew who she really was. "I also hear you and your little first choice are going on a picnic. I wonder if I could tag along." 

He wasn't sure whether or not he should be nervous by such a request from the infamous Julia. "I wouldn't mind your company, but I fear you may be harboring some evil against me," he said dubiously, but took the sting out with a smile. 

She laughed, flew toward him in one motion, and abruptly they were hugging. "Oh, I missed you," she said, squeezing his back and then ruffling his hair like a younger brother. "No one's as honest as good little Prince Damion." She stepped back, looking him over. "God, you've grown since I lost saw you. What was that, four years ago? Maybe I should have waited! You certainly look a lot more kissable now than you did when we were adolescent." 

He flushed, but knew she meant nothing of it. She had taught him how to kiss, had Julia, only a year his senior when he was fourteen and fancied himself desperately in love with her, just like every boy within a thirty mile radius. Julia was one of those girls with that vibe of availability and sensuality, a vibe, as he learned some years later indirectly, that did not disappoint anyone with something to offer. 

"I hear you've done well for yourself in these years abroad," Damion said to her. 

She shrugged. "Yeah, I suppose. But what did you expect from a girl of my sort of vice?" 

"You're hard on yourself." 

"Not at all. I know what I am and it's gotten me what I wanted. But I hear you are still an angel. I'm glad." 

"Are you?" he said skeptically. "How so?" 

"Because you're one of the good ones," she said with a fond smile. "That's why I respect you, and favor you with my secrets. I hope this Audrey Veron knows how lucky she is. If not, I'll set her straight." 

He had no response for that, but it reminded him what he was about. "Well, in that case, you may certainly accompany me in my little excursion today. We're meeting everyone out front." 

"Fantastic," she replied affirmatively, rested a hand on his arm and walked side by side with him to the main foyer of the palace. 

Everyone was waiting when they arrived, chatting amiably together about matters of little importance, everyone except Heero anyway, standing silently at Relena's shoulder with his arms folded. Damion was instantly gratified to see Terese introducing Audrey to everyone else that had come up to support him this weekend, and that she smiled as she met his friends. 

"Something caught your eye?" Julia said slyly through a smile, not moving her lips. Her eyes focused on Audrey like a hawk. "Oh, she _is_ something to see." 

He merely shook his head in amusement at her attempt to unsettle him. At length, their presence came to the attention of the others. Upon noticing them, Manny left Terese's side and greeted both him and Julia with some enthusiasm. Manny also was in her confidence, being in Damion's, and had received similar lessons from the lady at roughly the same time as Damion. Come to think of it, that was one of things they had gotten in a fight over all those years ago. Strange to think how immature it seemed now, to engage in such a brawl with one's best friend over a few kisses from a undeniably promiscuous acquaintance. 

Leaving Julia with Manny, Damion welcomed everyone, introduced Julia as a friend lately returned from extended travel. He then crossed the space between him and Audrey as talk and laughter resumed and people began to file outside to where horses were saddled and waiting for all of them. 

He meant to greet her with eloquence, but found the words choked in his throat when she turned her eyes on him. Her pale cheeks were flushed pink with the chill of the morning air and her hair was elaborately curled and styled in such a way that it distracted him from his own speech. 

"Lady Audrey," he said clumsily, and offered her his arm, which she took seemingly without thought, her expression flat. Of course, being a lady of some station, she would be used to that. "How are you? How did you sleep?" 

He wasn't sure what made him ask that. It was probably because he was so exhausted himself. Once again he had gotten only a few hours of sleep last night. He had seen his mother just before bed, and her inconsolable sorrow had reminded him of all the things he wished to forget. His father's funeral tomorrow for example, an event he courted with dread, but it was only in times of loneliness that he was able to express his grief. He was simply too distracted the rest of the time, and there was still so much to do. 

"Fairly well, my Lord Prince," she replied, eyeing him in such a way he almost thought she knew why he had asked. "Tell me more about this company," she said, indicating those who had gathered. "I met everyone only briefly." 

He flushed. "Relena Darilan I'm sure you have heard of. I dated her a few years back and we have since become friends. The man beside her is Heero Yuy, Gundam Pilot 01, her significant other. Terese I believe you have met already. She is on my management staff. The boy with her is Manny, my servant and oldest friend, her boyfriend. The other two boys are Gundam Pilots 02 and 04, Duo Maxwell and Quatre Winner respectively. They are more friends of Heero's, but welcome any time in Taravren for favors they have done in my service." 

"The rebellion," she guessed. 

"That's right," he replied. "The girl with Duo Maxwell is Hilde, his girlfriend," he continued. "Her I have met only briefly." 

"And interesting group, my Lord." She paused. "And Julia?" Audrey prompted. 

He smiled. He supposed it too much to think she was jealous. "Not competition," he teased anyway, attempting to loosen her up. "Unless it be in friendship. My first kiss, if truth be told, but Julia's serious ambitions don't extend to me. I know her too well to be tricked." 

Audrey's reaction was something he wished he could freeze in his mind and replay forever. She smiled hesitantly, laughed and proceeded to look bemused, hugging his arm tighter than she had a moment before. "But you like her," she accused in a half whisper as they stopped before the horses, her tone suddenly more casual after he revealed this personal information. The gundam pilots and their girlfriends were already mounting, but he lingered a moment with Audrey on the ground. 

"Guilty," he admitted. "She's an interesting character, but not the type I would court, nor she to be courted. Her methods are a little more direct." 

"You're awful!" she whispered playfully under her breath, somehow without sounding childish, her eyes shining. He smiled back; his heart began to beat a little quicker. 

"Talking about me?" Julia's voice came suddenly. Audrey flushed and whirled, starting in surprise and embarrasment. But Julia only laughed at her. "Oh, don't feel guilty," she said. "My success to fortune rests on my being the topic of every conversation. It does not bother me. But what is it, may I ask, that Damion has been telling you about me?" 

"Nothing in so many words, Lady Julia," Audrey said, her face still a shade of red. 

"He's elusive like that, yes," Julia said, casting sly glances in his direction. He held his hands up in defense. "But a good kid. I'm rather fond of him." 

He bowed to her and she drifted away in a flash, catching Manny and Terese by the arm and pulling them both some distance awy. Terese laughed at something she said, something that made Manny flush to the roots of his hair. 

Damion was left with Audrey in a moment of sudden and surprised silence, deprived of all conversation. They shared a glance between them, smiled, and somehow communicated without saying a word. Abruptly they both laughed. The severe and melancholy countenance of the Lady Audrey Veron, which so intimidated him yesterday, dissolved. Suddenly she was just a pretty girl named Audrey, sharing a joke with Damion, a boy who liked her. 

"Damion," she said, and he blinked at the sound of his name without the title from her lips. It was the first she had addressed him so. 

"Yeah?" he asked. 

"I'm glad I came today." 

Smiling, he offered to help her up into the saddle. 

***** 

Riding beside Relena, Heero couldn't tear his eyes off her, not even to admire the beauty of the Taravren countryside. Two nights now he had refused her, and he thought he was just beginning to understand why. She had been so understanding too, though obviously confused and disappointed. He had played it off on the difficulties Damion was going through affecting him, of the funeral and the pressure of being in a strange place, but he was not so sure she was fooled. What he did know was that he _did_ want to sleep with her... a lot. Actually, it was the only thing he really wanted to do. And that was what made him angry. 

She was a flashfire in his head. From the moment he awoke he ran sexual scenarios through his mind until, unsatisfied, he laid down in bed again. And then he dreamed the most terrible dream about her. What he dreamed of frightened and revolted him, what he said to her, how he treated her, how he had been treated. He couldn't remember if it was even a sexual dream, but he awoke with a sense of profound dread, confused and turned off. Only when the confused memories of the dream faded, as they did swiftly, did he remember where he was. Then her presence had been a comfort, and he had held her through the early morning, rubbing the bare skin of her arm as she slept with her head on his chest. But when she awoke he refused her again and the hurt in her face had hurt him. 

She had asked him what was wrong, what he had dreamed about. She guessed it was something to do with his past, but though he assured her it was not, he couldn't explain what it really was. He hardly remembered himself, except that it involved her and him in such a way that he was ashamed even upon waking. There was the impression of other people in the dream too, scoffing at them, at him mostly, and he developed the sense that, not only was he unworthy of her, but that he had horribly abused what value somewhat redeemed him. He had yet to shake the sensation, and wondered if the dream was something he had made up in his secret insecurity, or if it really reflected his situation. 

"What are you thinking about, Heero?" she asked him in a quiet whisper, and he snapped to attention. 

"Nothing," he said, feigning to smile. She regarded him quizzically for a moment, her eyebrows drawing low, but at length said nothing to follow up, to which he was grateful. 

"I've been watching Damion and Audrey," Relena said a little coldly, facing straight ahead. His skin prickled. She was offended. He had offended her. God, but he wished he could explain. If only he understood it himself. 

"She seems to be responding to him," Heero remarked, but he was more absorbed in watching Relena, her back and shoulders stiff, her head held high, then what he was saying. 

"I think she's good for him," Relena said casually, "though a bit apprehensive perhaps. Who wouldn't be?" 

Heero thought it might be more than that, but right now he was more interested in figuring out his own life than Damion's. From his observation, Audrey was well-guarded, much like he used to be. Damion would have to work magic to get her love, but then, Damion was probably capable of that. Of course, it depended on the reasons Audrey was so guarded. She was afraid of something. "I don't know," he replied, and Relena looked at him strangely. Damn. He had offended her again. He had not made a response that showed at least some interest in what she was saying, or in Damion's situation, the reason they were here in the first place. He cursed his selfishness. 

Relena looked at him for a moment and then sighed. 

He wanted to sink into darkness. 

Abruptly, Damion called a halt. Heero silently thanked him. Time for lunch. Heero dismounted from his horse, handing the reins to one of the servants who had come to accompany the party and walked over to help Relena down, but she dismounted without his help. A blanket was laid out on the grass and food retrieved from the bags loaded on one of the others. Everyone removed their shoes and sat down, mostly in twos and threes. 

"I've never been on a picnic like this before," Audrey said, picking up a sandwich. "I can't remember the last time I ate so casually in such company. My father's staff would be aghast." 

Damion smiled. "I'm breaking a lot of formal rules," he admitted. "This weekend, and the week beyond for those that choose to linger, should be highly formal. I ought not to show you this much special treatment, but for better or for worse, this is me." 

Audrey did not respond, but her expression was thoughtful. 

"You've been downright ignoring the other girls, my Lord," Manny said cheerily. 

"Good riddance. I hope they leave today," Terese said harshly, and Duo choked in shock. "I can not _stand_ that Danielle and her posse ordering the staff around." She waved a finger at all of them. "None of you have to put up with it, being so exalted and all, but I've been dealing day and night with these people. Not all of them are so bad, of course, but there's this one girl who I _know_ has got a boyfriend or maybe _two_, whatever she might say, and then there's that other girl who tried to sneak into Lord Damion's bedroom last night." 

"What?" Damion exclaimed. He wasn't the only one. 

"I caught her in the hall," Terese said, taking a bite of an apple. "You should have seen what she was wearing too!" 

They all just stared. Audrey didn't seem to know whether to laugh or be appalled. 

"The method works on some," Julia murmured frankly, and they all blinked at her for a moment in utter silence. Duo and Hilde tried to choke down laughter, and grins ran through the rest of the party. Julia said nothing more on the subject, but by her glances, she had the effect she intended, and was highly amused. 

"I'm more worried about what's going on in the west," Quatre said, changing the subject. "Did you hear about it, Heero?" 

Heero nodded. Who hadn't heard about it? There was always conflict somewhere. 

"That's what Zechs was called into headquarters about," Relena said. Heero looked at her. Zechs had never told him what that was about, nor did he even know Relena had communicated with her brother on political matters since they came to Taravren. Was he losing communication with everybody? 

"That was the last conversation I had with my father before he died," Damion said thoughtfully, and Heero's attention refocused to the group. Damion received a few sympathetic looks, though he seemed unaware of it. "About that guy proclaiming the birth of anarchy up and down the west coast of Europe." He looked really tired, even more so than he had yesterday, and his words came out almost without thought. 

"He's been gathering a lot of followers," Quatre said, "and there have been whispers of a terrorist organization forming under him, but no real threat or proof of it. He has a lot of listeners, though, enough to build an army if he wanted." 

Relena shivered and Heero unconsciously caressed her shoulder to calm her. She smiled at him sweetly, catching him by surprise, and leaned her head against his arm. Was that all it took? 

Damion nodded, coming more to attention. "Well, if he decides to declare war against government, he'll target places governed by a more right-wing paradigm, which means me." 

"Worried?" Relena asked quietly. 

"Not really," Damion said. "Not about Taravren. I'm more worried the problem will escalate until something drastic must be done in a combined effort of many governments. I know the Preventors are an organization formed to prevent such means of retaliation," Damion said slowly, apologetically to the gundam pilots, "but there might not be enough of you." 

"We have to try to avoid a war," Relena said, almost as if it were something rehearsed she resorted to without thinking. Her face was pressed close to Heero's arm as she snuggled against him. "But you're right, Damion, there's only so much we can do to restrict the liberty of a madman, and if a conflict comes of it..." her voice trailed off. "I just don't want to see anymore death." 

"How is it I know so little about this?" Audrey said suddenly. "What is this man's name?" 

"Abel Gardiner," Duo said absently, picking at his food. "He's been kicking up trouble almost since the end of the war, though. He was an officer under Romafeller, I think, but he came from a poor family." 

The expression of shock that crossed Audrey's face made Heero sit up straighter. 

"What is it?" Damion asked her, his drowsiness draining away in sudden interest. 

"Nothing," she said breathlessly, but after a moment she got up and wandered a little ways off, disappearing behind a lone tree on the top of a hill. Damion watched her for a few moments, seeming to struggle with his fatique and concern, but at length rose wearily and followed her. 

Heero turned back to his sandwich and tried not to think of how nice it felt to have Relena pressed so close to him. 

***** 

Audrey sought solitude behind the thick trunk of a tree a little ways from the group and leaned against it to dispell the dizziness that came upon her abruptly. She cursed herself in silence, for losing her composure for no reason, for running away before anyone could see her cry. 

Abel Gardiner. The name struck bells, but it couldn't be the same one, could it? Whether it was or not, it had affected her strongly, but she felt more like crying for her rudeness than anything else. The name had made her angry not disaffected, though perhaps that too on some deeper level. She scrubbed tears away from her face with the back of her hand, rubbing fingers beneath her eyes to clear away the residue of make-up that may have smeared. She would go back and sit down now, tell them all it was nothing, because it was. 

"Are you okay?" 

She started, turned, and gasping at the sight of Damion, leaned back against the trunk of the tree. 

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you," he said hastily. "What's wrong?" 

"It's okay," she replied. "I'm fine, really." 

"Do you know the anarchist?" 

"No," she said, sinking down to the ground with her back to the tree. She suddenly found that she couldn't stand anymore. Her legs felt weak, her muscles shaky. Damion sat down beside her quietly, letting the matter drop. 

Neither said anyhing for a moment. They were no longer discussing the anarchist, she knew, nor even her abrupt departure from the group. She waited, sensing he had something to say, and guessing what it was. 

"I was hoping to make you feel more comfortable today," Damion said slowly, and fidgeted with his hands, not quite looking at her. She smiled at that, remember how many times she had been told not to fidget, and knew he must have learned it too. "I apologize for the suddeness of everything, and the pressure I'm putting on you. I don't want it to be like that, but..." he trailed off. There were shadows under his eyes and he blinked drowsily, still unable to look at her. Terese was right; he was tired from overwork. "I wanted to be friends at least, not to rush things." 

"You don't have to explain," she said, and touched him on the shoulder affectionately. It was the first time she had touched him personally, and she was somewhat surprised to discover that he was real. "I don't know you very well, but you seem to be a good man. I'm just not sure it's possible for me to give you what you want." 

"And what would that be?" he asked quietly. 

"Love," she replied. "True affection and warmth and caring. But none of that is necessary for a wife of a prince. You know that as well as I." 

He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, as if in some pain of mind. She understood, but there was nothing she could say to ease him. She might as well be honest and let him know that she understood his situation, and her role in it. Last night she had talked to her father, reluctantly, but some things became clear. 

"You have to get married," she continued quietly. "To me or someone else, and soon. I heard the Lords talking. You already face the difficulties of being young, untried, and without friends among your staff. A wife would help you stabilize your image, and you need that. And if the whole council calls for it, which I assume they have, you will get little choice in the timing, or even the person." She paused. "They have chosen me?" 

He nodded, his eyes still closed. He didn't want to look her in the face. "I'm sorry," he said at last. "There have been...discussions since the death of my father. I'd have to have a really good reason not to take their advice." 

She smiled sadly. "I would have to have a really good reason to refuse your suit," she said. "And I don't. All my life, up until two years ago, I had firmly resolved to never marry," she continued, shaking her head, "but when I learned of Clara's death, I knew I would have to come here one day, and that if you were even half decent I would be obligated to accept you." She took a deep breath and prayed that she was not making a mistake. "If you have to marry someone it might as well be me," she said at last. 

He said nothing for a moment, but looked at her with those striking gray eyes, softened by sincerity. "Then you'll accept my suit?" 

"Are you offering it?" she asked. 

"Yeah," he said softly, and his eyes shimmered. 

"Then I guess we're engaged," Audrey said quietly, and leaned back again against the tree, her hands clasped over her knees. He was still a stranger, but she could play this role. By all accounts he seemed a good person. It was so unfair. 

Damion smiled weakly. "Well, I guess I'm lucky then," he said at last. 

"Lucky?" she inqired. 

He turned to her in quiet earnesty. "I like you, Audrey. I think you are prettiest girl I've ever seen and I like you. I just hope one day you'll return my affection." He looked so honest, and so tired. 

Tears formed swiftly in her eyes, catching her unawares, but she blinked them away. "Thank you," she said quietly, swallowing. "I'm sorry you can't have your fairy tale." 

"I don't give up so easily." 

She contemplated that a moment in pensive silence. Could she learn to love him? Should she try? "Are you tired?" she asked at last. 

"Exhausted," he replied, and she heard it in his voice. 

"Then sleep," she suggested. "We have all afternoon out here." 

"Don't you want to see the countryside?" 

She smiled fondly. "I live in the country, Damion. I've seen it before. You should rest." 

"Tell me about where you live," he requested drowsily. 

So she began to talk, telling him about the gardens and the seaside and the rolling hills of her estate grounds, how much she loved them, but she knew he was only half listening, and wasn't surprised when his head dropped on her shoulder and he began to breath quietly, his chest rising and falling rhythmically with every breath. She stopped talking and watched him in silence. He looked even more beautiful asleep, so angelic and tranquil it brought peace to her heart. She almost reached over to touch his dark hair, to brush it away from his eyes, but refrained. 

Abruptly, Relena came around the corner, a frisbee in her hand. "What are you two..." she began, and then stopped, a fond smile on her face. "How long as he been asleep?" she asked quietly. 

"A few minutes," Audrey replied just as softly. 

Relena nodded. "What were you talking about?" 

"Business," she replied, and it was, but Relena caught her inference, and nodded with understanding. "How long can we stay out here?" Audrey asked, changing the subject. 

"A few hours," Relena replied. "Until dinner." 

Audrey nodded. "Good," she said. "I'll stay with him for awhile." 

Relena nodded and left them alone, taking her frisbee with her, with which Audrey assumed a game would begin with the others. Audrey stayed awake for awhile, watching Damion sleep and contemplating her future with him. She wasn't sure how she felt, apprehensive, sorrowful in some ways, but there was a touch of contentment too. 

Eventually she fell asleep, and two and a half hours later, when the sky was just beginning to darken with approaching dusk, they were both awakened by Manny. They stirred groggily and rose in some confusion and stiffness. The conversation they had had occupied both their thoughts on the way back to the city, so much so that they said little the entire ride, but their eyes lingered on one another in knowing way, and other people noticed.   
  
  
  


Whoa... long chapter, I know. Sorry. Could you get through it without skimming? For those of you who are wondering "_where_ is the action/adventure part of this fic?" don't worry, it's coming. I'm still in the process of character development, and build up, but there is a plan. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW, even if you already have. I really appreicate your comments and it helps motivate me to write more, so don't be shy. Thanks so much to everyone who's reading this! 


	4. Wedding Vows

temperthesoul4 

  
Temper the Soul 

Chapter 4 

by zapenstap 

  
  
  


Dawn stole across the sky and the clouds blushed in welcome to the sun's rising. Heero shrugged into his coat, stamped his feet quietly into his boots and slipped out of the room. He paused in the doorway, lingering to look at the girl still fast asleep in bed, her face pressed against the pillow, one arm above her head, blonde hair spilling about her head and shoulders. He could see bits of her face poking between her hair and the bed, could see her breathing in and out in a slow, steady rhythm, her youthful face smoothed of all its adult worries. He stayed there watching her sleep for longer than he intended, his heart full of a strange and peaceful, yet terrifying feeling that consumed him. It made his stomach hurt. He would never stop loving her. Never. It might not always be so powerfully affecting, but it ran deep, to the bone, deeper. He couldn't imagine how he had come to be in this place with her. It was more than he was worth, more than he deserved, and yet less than he wanted, less than was fair to her. 

_I've ruined her_, he thought in his distraction, and felt pain. _She doesn't know what she bargained for. How could I use her like this?_

He had used her, or felt like he had. In the past she had cared for him when no one else did, and he had protected her, keeping his feelings close, but then everything changed. Damion had come, he had reacted possessively, and when he thought it was over, she had chosen her Heero. It was the name he kept for her and her alone. Did she really know anything about him? He had taken her without prudence, without thought. He had wanted her for himself, and put her in this place of compromise. She loved him. She said she did anyway, and he believed her, but he wondered why she wanted him, why she loved him, why she cared so much. And did he really love her? He knew he did, but he wondered if his reasons were not selfish, if he wasn't merely responding to the first person to ever care for him. 

In such doubt, he could not sleep with her, and the tension was building between them. They had almost had a fight about it last night. She had demanded a reason and he had given none. He had seen the anger in her face, in her voice, powerful and intimidating, but after a long stony silence she had relented and brushed the matter aside, promising to wait him out. She said she knew he needed time before he could talk to her about things that upset him, and he was grateful, but this time he didn't know what to say. They still had not really had the conversations she wanted to have, about him and his past. He still couldn't talk about those things. 

He should never have started sleeping with her. He remembered being sick with lust for her, how much it had disgusted him, and thinking back on it, he realized he had given into that lust when she offered, shamelessly, and enjoyed himself since. He had used her. He had used her with the best of intentions, had done it in love, but still used her. Had she done the same with him? No one could openly know what they did. And if it had to be kept secret, it wasn't right. If it became known, she would suffer shame, and he would share in that. It wasn't right. She deserved more. He wanted to sleep with her, of course, but not in guilt. And he didn't want that to be the only thing that he wanted. Without it, did he still love her? How could he know? It didn't seem so, when every second all he could think about lately was sex with her. He was unworthy of her, in so many ways, unworthy. She didn't know what she had bargained for. Maybe he never should have allowed himself to fall in love with her at all. 

He felt horrible. 

Softly, he shut the door, shut her out, and walked out of their apartments. These rooms were too much like a little home, just enough to remind him that it was not. It was all a facade, an illusion, a pallid representation of something lovely. She deserved the real thing. 

He walked out into the hall, ignoring the servants who went about their early morning duties just as much as they ignored him. They were dressed all in black this morning, as was he, as was everyone. It was the day of the funeral. He was pretty sure he would find Damion awake somewhere. 

Passing through the foyer, he saw a young girl in a black dress passing through and stopped her, asking if she might know where he could find Damion at this hour. 

She blinked at him. "I have no idea," she said. "One of the other girls said the prince was in the library. I have spoken to him only once this weekend. I'm going home tonight." 

Heero stared at her. Of course. She must be one of the other girls who had come this weekend. "Are you offended?" he asked her in her reference to going home. 

She blinked and blushed. "Oh, no, not at all. I never expected to be a choice. My presence here is merely a formality. He's been kind to me, but everyone knows Audrey Veron will really be his wife. Besides, there are other reasons for coming. Are you one of the Lords, or..." she left it hanging, but he could tell she was dubious that he might be a lord, or even a friend of "the Prince." He supposed she thought he was a servant, or a guard, or a messenger. 

"I'm a gundam pilot," he informed her. "I'm here with Relena Darilan." 

Instant recognition flashed across her face. "Oh, right. Are you her bodyguard?" 

"Yeah," he replied, and it rankled, but he couldn't say more, not without implying their relationship to be more than anybody was technically supposed to know. It was infuriating. "I need to speak with the prince," he said, and that rankled too. It reminded him of when Damion and Relena were together and how well they gotten along, being somewhat equal in station and experience. He was not a prince. He was nothing like that, didn't even understand it clearly. Was it wrong for him to even be with Relena? If this girl knew, how would she react? Scorn maybe? Did Relena realize it? What if he lost her...? The thought was terrifying. 

"Try the library," she suggested, and continued on her way. 

Heero hurried on, glad that his reaction to her words had not shown on his face. 

He found Damion in the library, alone in dim lighting, surrounded by books, pamphlets and letters, most seemingly on Taravren Law and Customs. But there were some oddities thrown into the mix, a few church writings and a bible, all of which were stamped with a seal Heero recognized as the emblem of one of the churches in the city. 

"What are you doing?" he asked from the doorway. 

Damion lifted his head from the fist he had rested it on while reading a book propped on his knee. He looked a little less tired than he had the previous day, though by no means fully rested. He was dressed in all black much as everyone else, but though he seemed somewhat melancholy, his eyes glimmered sharply with attention and welcome. "Heero," he said, setting the book aside. "It's early. What are you doing here? Where is Relena?" 

"She's still asleep," Heero replied, and remembered fondly how he had last seen her, resting so peacefully. "What are you doing?" 

Damion sighed. "I'm looking at Taravren marriage customs and wedding vows," he replied. 

Heero said nothing for a moment. "You're marrying Audrey," he stated at last, and knew his voice sounded a little cold. 

Damion did not meet his eyes, but nodded slowly. "Yeah," he said, breathing deeply. "It seems so." 

"She has problems," Heero warned him. 

Damion nodded again with a slight smile on his lips, somewhat surprising him. "I know," he said. "She's a little introverted and something about the idea of marriage troubles her greatly, but I can't help that. I like her, and whether I did or not, I have to marry her." 

"You told Relena and I on the phone that you had a choice." 

"It's easy to say that," he replied with a soft sigh. "It's a formulated answer, but my choice is really more of a choice between gaining the support of the Lords or rocking the boat by being selfish. I'm lucky that I like Audrey, Heero. Really lucky." 

"Why her?" Heero demanded. He didn't know why he was being so hostile. The last thing Damion needed was to be attacked for this, but he couldn't help it. "Why do they want her?" 

Damion shrugged. "Tradition," he said calmly. "Her father served in the navy all his life. He was both a Duke and an Admiral. And my family has good relations with hers. Every once in awhile certain...promises are made to families that have served the royal family well. I'm obligated to honor those promises, though not by law. There are other girls in her family that are suitable, and in neighboring families as well, but Audrey is first choice. My parents wanted me to form an attachment with one of those girls, and first choice if possible, but they meant to keep it from me until I seemed interested. I almost wish I had known so much was decided all my life, but they were hoping the sentiment would be natural, so I wouldn't feel so trapped." 

"That isn't all. It's because she _is_ Clara's cousin." 

Damion looked up at him and smiled. "You're too clever. Yes. Clara's insurrection hangs largely in the minds of many. Forming ties with her cousin would mend the breach and bring honor to her innocent relations. The Veron's have been a bit estranged these past two years, and that has to be fixed to maintain political stability." 

"And that's why you have to marry Audrey? She might be your enemy." 

Damion smiled. "Don't be so harsh on me, Heero. I like her. I think I might come to love her." 

"She won't love you back," Heero said flatly. "Not the way you want. She's very guarded." 

Damion looked away. "I don't know. Some would say that about you." 

"That's different," he said a little defensively. But was it? And did he really love the way Damion would? Heero shook his head. "Audrey has a specific reserve against marriage. Do you know what it is?" 

"No, not yet." Damion looked at him strangely, the light glancing off his eyes. "Do _you_ have a reserve against marriage, Heero?" 

The question seemed to hang there. 

It caught him by surprise. Heero didn't reply immediately, dumbstruck as if hit by a revelation. _Marriage?_ "I've never really thought about it." 

Damion was looking at him in the most uncomfortable way, directly, inquisitively. "Why did you come here, Heero?" 

Heero froze, suddenly feeling attacked himself. "I was looking for you. It's your father's funeral." 

"Yes, it is, but it's not like you to offer condolence arbitrarily. What do you want from me? Is something up with Relena? You seem edgy lately." 

Other people had already noticed. "I have to go," he said after a moment of pause, turned, and walked away. 

"Heero!" Damion called out. "I need you to do me a favor." 

He stopped and turned. Damion stood, pushed in his chair, and picked up a few books from the table, those with the church emblems on them. "Could you drop these off for me? They're borrowed and I'm through with them, but I have a lot to do." 

He took the books with a little hesitation. Three years ago he would have refused anyone a favor. "I don't know much about churches," he said slowly. 

"Just give them to anyone who works there. I could ask one of my staff to do it if you'd rather..." 

"No," Heero said. "I'll do it." This way he could avoid Relena for a little longer this morning. He found that he missed her face already, her touch, her smile, but he didn't want to see her just yet. 

"I know you have trouble talking to people," Damion added quietly as Heero adjusted his hold on the books. "Maybe somebody there can help you, if it's about Relena. Maybe they can answer your questions. They don't know you, so it wouldn't feel so personal." 

Heero avoided his eyes and didn't answer. Tucking the books under one arm, he left the library, trying to make sense of his thoughts. 

***** 

Relena awoke to find Heero gone, not just from the bed, but from the room. She got up, took a shower and dressed for the day, black for the funeral this afternoon. She tried not to think about Heero, tried to let him be, but she couldn't force him from her thoughts. 

What was wrong with him? What was bothering him so much that he couldn't stand to touch her? At first, she had gone with the idea that it was merely the circumstances, but now she was afraid it might be her. Was he realizing perhaps that he didn't really love her after all, or that he had fallen out of love with her? He was giving her such mixed messages she couldn't make sense of what he wanted, what he needed. It hurt. He was so hard to get close to, so hard to understand, and she loved him so much, cared for him so deeply, that it hurt when it was obvious that he couldn't talk to her. 

They had spent the last two years getting used to each other. He had been so bewildered at first, so surprised every time he saw her, every time she showed him her affection. Emotionally, they had taken things so slowly. It had taken some time, but he had come to be able to talk to her about how he felt about things, to share his thoughts and emotions. But they didn't talk about his past, and they didn't really talk about how their feelings for each other developed. She respected his privacy about his past, but she still wanted to know. As for the other, sometimes she needed to know. He could communicate that he loved her, that she was important to him, that he cared, but he did it usually without speech. He would tell he loved her, but only in the heat of a moment, and he never explained why. For so long now, she had been content with that, to merely have him near and loving her was enough, but now she was uncertain, anxious. It was painful. 

"I love you, Heero," she said to the air, and felt herself becoming worked up over nothing. "I love you," she repeated, dashed tears from her eyes and set about putting on her shoes. 

Once dressed, she made her way to Audrey's apartments, intent on making friends with the girl today if she could. Damion had already decided to marry her, she was certain, and she wanted to get an idea of how Audrey felt about it, to help if it was necessary, or just to listen. Sometimes people just needed someone to care and to listen, to let them state how they felt and be told that that was okay. After all, how could you argue with someone's feelings? They were not objective. A person felt how they felt. She wished Heero knew that she understood that, that he could say or feel anything and she would only support him, agree with him, whatever he needed. And she needed a friend too. 

She knocked softly on Audrey's door. 

"Come in," 

Relena opened the door and stepped inside a well furnished room, elegant and beautiful. Audrey rose, dressed in black as she was, her brown hair hanging dark and straight, but curling over her shoulders and upper back. "Miss Darilan," she said, blinking large brown eyes. 

"Good morning, Audrey," Relena greeted her, clasping her hands in front of her. "I know that this is a somber occasion, but once it is over, things will have to return to normal. To speed it along, the palace has scheduled a formal ball of sorts, tomorrow night. If you were planning to attend, I thought we might go shopping together." 

Audrey smiled at her. "I heard about it," she murmured. "I must attend, and I do need a dress." She grabbed her purse from the closet by the door and followed Relena out, just like that. 

They walked side by side to the palace gates and out into the streets, quiet at first. Taravren was arranged in such a way that most of the major stores had sprung up around the palace and so were within walking distance, though it was a bit of a walk. She didn't mind. The main idea of this outing was to get to know Audrey better and also to share some of her own life. 

"Are you thinking of marrying Damion, Audrey?" she asked without preamble, mostly because she thought she already knew the answer, and also knew that Audrey was aware that the situation was keenest on everyone's mind. 

Audrey was silent for a moment, staring straight ahead. "Yes," she said softly. "I know I will. I try to think about it as little as possible, but I know that there are few reasons he would reject me, and I can not reject him." 

Relena regarded her with some sympathy, but only for her discomfort and uncertainty. She honestly felt that Audrey was a good match for Damion, in station as well as character, and merely wished her to be open-minded. "Damion is a wonderful person," she said. "I know you must be tired of hearing it because it puts pressure on you to feel some affection for him, but I only mean that you do not have to be afraid." 

"I believe it," Audrey said quietly. "But I almost wish he wasn't so wonderful as you say. I wonder at the endurance of love, if it can really last forever, or even for a lifetime. But that's what he wants." 

"You will never know unless you try." 

Audey smiled. "A good point," she said. "But I can not help my inhibitions." 

"Why? What are they?" Relena asked, and suddenly felt very intrusive. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to make you uncomfortable, but I feel that communication would help matters. Damion knows that you are nervous, I think, and perhaps it would help if he knew why." 

"There are a few reasons," Audrey said slowly, but without any obvious intention to elaborate. "My parents are not the best example of true love, but my father presses me into marriage and that is difficult." 

"You do not get along with you father." 

"No, but it is difficult to explain." 

Relena sensed she didn't want to talk about it and let the matter drop. 

"You are with the gundam pilot, Heero Yuy, correct?" Audrey asked suddenly. 

Relena started, caught be surprise. "Yes," she said. 

Audrey nodded. "Terese told me that you used to date Damion but then chose Heero. Do you love him?" 

Relena nodded. "Yes. More than I can relate." She smiled sadly to herself. "He means so much to me." 

Audrey looked at her strangely. "I have seen him with you. You communicate together without speaking. Your affection for each other is obvious. It is wonderful to observe." 

Relena flushed and pushed her hair behind her ears, ducking her head. She didn't know what to say, but her heart welled up with emotion. He was so affectionate, as Audrey said, and yet... 

Audrey continued to evaluate her. "Something is wrong between you?" she guessed. 

Well, she had brought up this topic. She might at least be honest. She had to talk to someone. "He has been avoiding...intimacy with me," she said slowly, and blushed. 

"You are intimate?" She sounded surprised. "Terese said two years. I suppose it is not strange. But I never thought... I don't know." 

Relena lifted her head. "It is me, isn't it? My station, my public role and dedication. I don't seem like a person with a personal life, do I?" 

"I don't know what it is," Audrey said with a shrug. "But that makes sense. I think everyone is used to thinking of you as so young, so idealistic, so dedicated. You did a phenomenal job, passing everyone's expectations. I imagine you had to work hard for that." 

"My position as Vice Foreign Minister was originally merely honorary," she said. "I always have to prove myself." 

"And this Heero," Audrey said. "You knew him from the war?" 

Relena nodded. "Yes. Our history is strange. I can't remember when I didn't love him. He inspired me so much, and he always protected me. I felt safe with him and, I know it sounds dumb, but I felt like he needed me. He never had anyone care for him before, and I did. He wouldn't let me get close, kept his distance, but when Damion came..." she shrugged, "everything he changed. I know he loves me, or I did. He doesn't communicate his feelings well and now, for some reason, he won't touch me." 

Audrey said nothing for a moment, looking ahead in thought. "I have heard that it is usually the opposite with boys. They want the sex without the relationship, not the other way around." 

That was interesting. She hadn't really thought about it like that. "What do you think it is, then?" 

They stopped in front of the glass doors of a store with designer dressed modeled in the windows and entered still in conversation. Audrey began to look through the dresses. "I don't know. Perhaps it has nothing to do with you. You are sure he loves you, underneath all the secrecy?" 

"I thought so," Relena said. 

Audrey smiled as she pulled a red dress from the rack. Relena gasped. It had to cost several hundred dollars, but it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. She very rarely wore red, generally trying to appear more conservative. Red, especially such a vibrant shade, was meant to be dramatic, eye catching. "Try this on," Audrey said. "You would look good in this color, especially if you lightened your hair a shade." 

"Audrey..." Relena began breathlessly. 

Audrey pulled out a second dress, a vibrant blue that made her skin glow as she held it up to her face. "And this one for me," she said, "provided it fits, though you and I can always afford to pay to have it tailored, I suppose. Let your Heero alone tonight if that's what he wants. Try to get him to talk, maybe, or just let him think. Tomorrow night, if he sees you in this and if he loves you..." she shrugged. "At the very least you will catch his attention. He will not be able to say no without an explanation. And why would he say no?" 

Nodding, Relena took the dress and held it up to herself in the mirror. She could get her hair done tomorrow afternoon. She would see tomorrow night if Heero still found her attractive, if he wanted her or not. She hoped he did, that he would love her. She always knew in their love making how he felt. He communicated it without words, and she missed his closeness terribly. 

***** 

Heero had no idea what he was doing there. 

"I don't believe in God," he said flatly right off the bat, just so there wouldn't be any confusion. He tried to get himself to stop glaring, but he couldn't. 

"All right," a stranger replied easily, folding his hands over her stomach and leaning back comfortably. 

Heero was sitting in a comfortable chair opposite of a man he didn't know, with nothing but a coffee table between them... in a church. The stranger was a priest or a pastor or a leader of some sort, Heero didn't really know, and he didn't really care to ask. He wasn't even sure what kind of Church this was, and probably wouldn't perceive a difference anyway. He supposed he was a pastor. 

"You are not here to talk about theology," the stranger clarified for him. "What do you want to talk about?" 

Heero sunk deeper into his chair unconsciously. "I just came to return some books for a friend." 

"That was nice of you." 

Silence. 

He wasn't really sure why he was here still actually. He had brought the books back, but before handing them over he had looked through them. Sitting in a chair, he read through the wedding vows, where Damion had been reading, and felt a surge of emotion that confused him so thoroughly that he got lost in self contemplation. He didn't know how long he sat in a chair in that main room, staring at the words on the page until he had memorized them, but eventually someone came over and asked if he wanted to talk to a leader. He had agreed without thinking about it. He must have looked rather distraught. 

"I'm here about a girl," he said slowly. Should he call her his girlfriend? Well, of course she was, but... "She's a very important person," he added. 

"Important to you or important to other people?" the man asked. 

Heero blinked. "Both. Other people." 

"Are you in a relationship with this girl?" 

"Yeah," he said. 

"How long?" 

"Two years," he replied. 

"How long have you known her?" 

"Five years, almost six." 

The man nodded thoughtfully. "Are you intimate with this girl?" Heero nodded, but said nothing. "How long before you started?" 

"Not very long," he said, and flushed against his will. "But I...we stopped." _Why_ did this upset him? 

"Do you love her?" 

The question was personal, but Heero found himself nodding. "Always," he said quietly. He looked down, studying his shoes, newly polished. 

The stranger regarded him thoughtfully. "So what changed?" 

Heero fought with a sudden uprising of emotions and forced himself to stay calm. "I don't know," he gasped, and his fingers clenched around the arms of the chair. "I feel... I think..." The words wouldn't come. He struggled to speak, but gave up. This was impossible. He made as if to get up. "This was a mistake," he said quickly. 

"Wait," the man said hurriedly, putting a hand on his arm to detain him. Heero tensed and pulled back, but he stayed. The man motioned for him relax and spoke earnestly to him, leaning forward. "You're with a girl you love. You've been with her two years and known her longer. I don't know you, but you don't seem to be the type to give so much to just anyone. You say she's an important person. Does that bother you?" 

"I don't know. Sometimes." He wasn't entirely unimportant himself, but he didn't share her world. He knew he didn't have nearly the value she did, unless it was in her appraisal. 

"You look unhappy. You said you stopped being intimate with her. Why?" 

"I don't know," he said softly. "She deserves more." 

"What does she deserve?" 

Heero shifted uncomfortably. "Everything," he said. "Anything she wants. She deserves a real home, someone who understands her, respect..." He trailed off, troubled. 

"You can't give her those things?" the pastor asked. "Mightn't she just want you? Unless you don't think she loves you." 

Heero took a deep breath and let his head fall back. "No, I..." he looked about for some escape, but found none. "She loves me," he said, and felt immense relief just saying that out loud. "I just don't know if she should." 

"You think you are bad for her?" 

"No! I can protect her," he said distinctly to himself, his voice fraught with emotion bubbling up from where they were buried deep. He was sweating. "I will always keep her safe. I will love her forever. I would build her a home and..." He put a hand to his forehead, suddenly dizzy. What was he talking about? His eyes felt hot. "She doesn't know me," he said with a slight choke in his voice. "I'm difficult to love." He could see her so clearly, smiling at him, comforting him, loving him. "I don't deserve her. I've...used her so badly." He couldn't say anymore. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to clear his thoughts. 

"I don't know why you would say that," the stranger said quietly. Heero looked up. He had forgotten where he was, who he was talking to. "You seem so desperate, but over what? You say she loves you and clearly you love her. By what authority do you have to judge yourself so harshly? I assure you you worth much more than you think. You think she doesn't know you? If you love this girl so much, tell her what you think she ought to know. Give her what you think she deserves..." 

"I can't," he protested. 

"Why not? You said she deserves a home, that you would build one. Do you want to marry her?" 

He choked, trembling. "I don't know. I never thought..." Marry her? No. No, he couldn't do that. 

"Would you keep the wedding vows you were reading?" 

He felt himself tensing up and couldn't reply. He would if he felt it in his power to make them. He had memorized them. 

"The Church regards marriage as the joining of two people into one unit, forever," the pastor explained to him. "Saying those vows is making a solemn promise to your girl, to God, to the public." Heero nodded, still unable to speak. Forever._ To the public. _ There would be no shame in loving one's wife. "It's not a decision to be made carelessly," the pastor continued. "Divorce is highly frowned upon in the Church, more like amputating your right arm than dissolving a contract. You understand?" 

"I never say anything I don't mean," Heero forced out, his voice thick. "I've never broken a promise. If I say I'll do something, I'll do it." He was breathing heavily, felt suffocated. "I think I need to go." 

"Best of luck," the pastor said as Heero stood hurriedly. "You seem very worthy to me," he added as Heero turned to go, "whoever your lady is." 

Heero didn't reply, but managed to thank the man before he left, striding out of the church much more quickly than he had walked in. He didn't know where he was going, but he couldn't get the idea of marrying Relena out of his mind. He would have to think about this more. Was it really possible? He wanted to love Relena forever, he knew that, but to call her his wife, to undergo a ceremony, have everyone see and know it... He wasn't sure he was ready for anything like that. The possibility would never have occurred to him on his own. But then, three years ago, he would have thought being where he was with her now impossible. 

He felt feverish. He wanted her. He wanted her in so many ways. But wasn't it a crime to indulge in any of them? Could she even consider marrying a drifter like himself, a soldier, an emotionally crippled man who couldn't even convey how much he loved her as often as he wanted to? He was nobody's husband. As much as he wanted to perform that role, he could not see himself there, could not see other people seeing him there. And his past. She knew so little about him. Relena Darilan marry Heero Yuy? It wasn't even his real name. 

He wanted to hit something.   
  
  
  
  
  
  


Yeah, that's a lot of 1xR. Sorry for the delay in this chapter. I've been busy, and neglecting school in finishing this I'm afraid. I hope you enjoyed it. _ PLEASE_ write a review for this chapter. Next chapter: It's the night of the ball, with a twist ending.


	5. Lady in Red

Temper the Soul 

Chapter 5 

By Zapenstap 

  
  
  


Damion went to bed with a profound sense of stillness after his father's funeral. The world seemed slow and languid. It was too quiet. Tomorrow night was the last of the weekend's festivities, hosted for a smaller number of guests, and still a highly insensitive affair. He wanted nothing more than to shut himself down, to wall himself up in his room and be morbid for awhile in solitude, but he hadn't that luxury. Things were improving otherwise. His mother seemed easier after the funeral, silent and reflective, but not the wreck that so unnerved him those first long and painful days. It was disturbing to see one's parents helpless and unhappy, to feel the obligation to lighten their worries. He wondered if parents lived in that sort of constant state of anxiety for their children. He decided not to think about that. 

His thoughts roamed to Audrey, as they must of late. She would be his wife after all. In six months or a year he would marry her. He was barely twenty-one, but he was Prince Regent. In six months to a year he would be a king, if a king under another title. It had seemed so frightening, so entirely overwhelming, but somehow the knowledge of the wedding eased his mind. He would not be alone. Audrey had more than the qualifications necessary to be an asset to him. He knew it ought to feel strange to think first of how he could use her, but knowing he loved her dismissed the insensitivity of that. She would be useful to him as his wife, but he would love her regardless. And she would love him in return he hoped, hoped it with every breath in his body, but even if she didn't he would still be true to her. Anything else was unthinkable. 

Could it be possible that he already loved her? He could see her in his thoughts, the turn of her head, the form of her body, the glance of her eye, the sense of her in the way she moved and spoke. She was beautiful, quiet and reflective, with the discerning intelligence and self-possession that confused and fascinated him. What a Queen she would make! He smiled in anticipation, and wondered at his own eagerness. 

How strange that she would occupy his mind so quickly and so completely. Was it this that Heero felt Relena after the war had ended, this soft sense of airy wonder and contentment? If he dwelt too long upon it his stomach would tremble, his heart constrict. He knew it was mostly psychological. He could control his thoughts of her, and to a degree his reactions, but he didn't want to control them. He wanted to feel like this, to float out of the sorrow and sadness that would otherwise occupy his thoughts. He wanted to fall in love with her, to know her in all her faculties, to build a life with her of lasting warmth and tenderness. Perhaps it was a pipe dream, the idle wishful thinking of a young man thrust into a destiny not of his own choosing and trying to make the best of it, but why not? 

Tomorrow night he would dance with her. It could be awkward or it could be wonderful. Perhaps he would get a better idea of her feelings for him. Perhaps they could talk honestly about their expectations for one another. He hadn't officially proposed to her yet, and there was much that went with a prince's proposition to marry. There was much that went with everything he did now. But he didn't want to talk business with her tomorrow night. No, tomorrow night he just wanted to romance her if he could, to feel her out, expecting nothing but hoping for the best. 

What he didn't want to think of right now was his father's death, or the disquiet rising in the west and the requests he had received upon the matter. 

***** 

Audrey knelt over a tallow candle burning singley in her darkened room, shielding the flickering flame with the cupped palm of her hand. She caught a glance at herself in the mirror, her black dress and dark hair emphasizing the pale tones of her skin. The light from the candle made her face glow eerily, her eyes light up. If not for the tears in them, she might have looked supernatural, even ghostly. 

There was no reason to turn off all of the lights and light a candle except that it reflected her mood. Why she would cry at a stranger's funeral she did not know, but her heart was heavy and she wanted nothing more than to be alone... if she could not be Damion. 

Curse the thought! She wasn't falling in love with him. She merely sympathized. She had watched him throughout the proceedings, watched his face as his father's coffin was lowered into a grave. Damion face was so pale and so stiffened he might have been the one dead. He could not cry, not in front of so many thousands of people, and to keep his composer he had assumed a coldness to his countenance. The wintery chill permeating his expression and cold gray eyes was fit to freeze the summer flowers until their petals petrified and cracked off. He was also the sole remaining support for his mother, who, escorted by him, wept unceasingly throughout the entire procedure. He said nothing, looked at no one, and refused all offers of assisstance. Even his friend Manny had done nothing but stand by him, but Manny had known Damion's father since childhood, and he let more emotion show for his benefactor than did the King's own son. 

Audrey had watched, feeling her own sense of sorrow and bleakness, and the cold anger that always accompanied thoughts of her mother's death...and her father's absence from it. She wanted to comfort her fiance--how strange and foreign was that idea!--but she knew she was not the best role model in situations as these. She would either have advocated cynicism or fallen into her own emotional grief, in which she would undoubtedly seek his comfort when he needed hers. 

So now, when everything was done, she sat alone in her rooms with a single candle, praying to a God she believed in in theory if not always in feeling. She wasn't even clearly certain what she prayed for, there were so many things to be worried about, but at length she felt even her emotions were incomprehensible, much less her words, retired to bed with the sort of heavy emotional exhaustion she hoped could only bring peace. 

But her dreams were interlaced with the nightmare of memory. She saw herself as a child, standing on a dock by the sea, smiling up at her father as he kissed her mother and headed to his ship. He lifted her in his arms and kissed her forehead. She laughed and wrapped her little arms around his neck, chattering in his ear about nothing, telling him how she hoped he would soon come home soon, that she was sad he would miss her birthday that year. And then she had seen her mother behind him, the grave expression on her face, the unhappy glow in her eyes, and little Audrey's enthusiasm had faltered in confusion. Abruptly she was being set down again, though she clung to her father's hand. But he disengaged her grip, turned, and was gone. 

He did miss her birthday that year, and all the birthdays after that, without explanation or communication, until her mother died, ten years later. When he finally came home, he did not get a welcome reception from his daughter, who had lived without him long enough, who in the intervening years had grown up on the bitter lamentations of her mother, the constant warnings against men and marriage until she could no longer frequent male society without unbidden apprehension. And none of that even touched on the horrors of her reaction to her mother's death, without any parent or mentor to guide her, hating and missing men so much. It was her own fault, and an additional burden to her concerns, but she did not want to think about, especially knowing that she would soon have to. 

And now she was getting married to a prince. She was told how he was wonderful, but her father had been wonderful too, until his work and play became too important to him and he stoppd coming home. As much as she was growing to like Damion, she could not think of those beautiful gray eyes without a hidden sense of revulsion and fear. She was crippled, horribly and unfairly crippled. If only Damion did not want so much from her. If only she could enter her obligation without expectation. She felt she was the worst first choice in the world. Why, oh why, did he want to fall in love with her? That he had she was sure, and the clarity of it only made the knowledge more painful. 

The candle burned to nothing as she slept restlessly, and in the morning all she could allow herself to think about was the preparations for the ball tonight. She hoped her eyes were not too shadowed. But she imagined his would be too. 

***** 

A few hours before the ball the day after the funeral, Heero rubbed his forehead with the palm of his hand. Perched on a stool in one of the many formal rooms of the Taravren palace, he felt out of place, even in a tuxedo, perhaps _because_ he was in a tuxedo. He felt unrefined, like an actor in a play or a puppet on a stage. 

He was alone in the room except for the servants preparing for the arrival of the guests within a few hours. He had sought solace downstairs, away from anything personal to him. In this beautiful setting, all that he could think about was the Wing Zero of all things, of past battles and victories and losses, of sorrows and sufferings where, though he was unhappy, at least he had felt useful. 

The ticking of the clock was not helping. 

"Hey, there you are!" Duo said from the doorway, strolling in. He was followed by Terese and Hilde, giggling together like old friends. It was strange how quickly they had taken to each other, but Heero wasn't really paying them any attention. Duo stopped in front of him. "Why are you already dressed?" Duo asked. "Party doesn't start for another few hours, Heero." 

"I know," he replied. "I need to think about some things." He did, and he didn't want to be in his room. 

Relena had been so cheerful today, and last night. They had not fought once, nor was any suggestion of sleeping together made. It had lifted his heart at first, but now he was wondering why she was suddenly so complacent. He had meant to talk to her, he'd been slowly building up the courage, but he couldn't find the right moment, and his thoughts died on his lips when he looked at her. She told him she intended to get ready with Audrey and the other girls tonight, that she would see him at the party, and then had left him alone in the room. He couldn't stand to be in there long, with her or by himself. Everything he looked at reminded him of her, especially reminded him of sex with her and it drove him crazy with desire and self-loathing. He knew he ought to just sleep with her and talk afterwards, but he couldn't. He had decided he wouldn't, and backing off from that now felt too much like failure. He had set himself a ridiculous mission and now he had to see it through. 

Duo shrugged and pulled up a stool beside him. Hilde and Terese kept walking, heading toward Audrey's apartments with swift steps. They were carrying their dresses in plastic bags and Terese seemed to have a kit filled with what looked to be hair products. Heero didn't pay them much notice. 

Duo sat beside him in silence for a moment. "What's up with you lately, Heero?" he asked at last. 

Heero shurgged. "Nothing. Don't worry about it." 

"Something with Relena?" the other gundam pilot pressed. "Are you guys fighting? Because that really upsets me." 

Heero just looked at him. "I said don't worry about it." He stood up and slung his coat over his shoulder. "It doesn't concern you." 

He felt Duo's eyes on his back as he walked away, but he refused to turn around, and he certainly wasn't going to "talk." Not right now. If he still couldn't talk to Relena about what he wanted, he certainly wasn't going to mention it to anyone else, not anyone who knew him well enough to judge him anyway. But who really knew him...? Was there anything to know? Sometimes he felt like the ghost of a person, going through the motions of living, a mere imitation of who he was supposed to be, what he could have been if that old had not been not killed so long ago. But trying to complete the process had been futile, and after all, it seemed even ghosts could love. As long as there was that, there was reason to live, even reason to want to live happily. 

He walked into the next room and found a couch against a window. He leaned his head back on the headrest and lost all sense of time in his thoughts. Most of them were about Relena, manifesting in various ways. He tried to think of all the things he knew about her, all the things she had been before she became a sexual object for his use. He remembered her unwavering spirit, her bravery, her determination and strength, her unconditional love and compassion for strangers and enemies alike. To such a spirited and caring, but innocent girl had fallen enormous tragedy and responsibility. But she had thrown her own happiness away for the peace of the world. She carried a burden on her slender shoulders that was restricting and defining to her personality, that caused her endless grief and frustration, but that she bore with pride and conviction. She would always fight her battles as he had always fought his. And she would always love him, always care for him. 

But did she do it because she loved his soul or because her innate compassion drew her to him in pity and her need for his love? Without him, she lived a lonely life admist the glitz and bustle of her office. Without her, his life was lonelier. But was loneliness a good reason for love? 

Abruptly he realized there was music, talking, the clinking of glasses and the constant click of many heeled shoes on wooden floors. He stood up and followed the sounds to the main ballroom. He stood a moment in the doorway, tranfixed by the sight before him. Waitors roamed the room with trays of food and champagne. Women in floor-length formals floated across the polished wooden floors like angels or visions out of artwork. They were accompanied by men dressed smartly in expensives tuxedos with gold cufflinks, some with diamonds, striding by their sides with confidence, escorting them with one an offered arm or a hand held just away from the lower back. Heero watched them move about, watched the silent social rules of their manners in their greetings and talk. He saw how their jewelry caught the glitter of gold in the picture frames on the walls and the chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. His eyes drifted to the food, to the service, to the tapestries hanging from the walls, the antique vases on the tables, the glitter of the silverware, the people, the clothes, the finery and the way in which everyone before him seemed to meld together as a part of the luxurious scene rather than as participants in it. 

It came to him that Damion was wealthy. Very, very wealthy. Of course, he was a prince, a king, but Heero had not really taken it into account before. Damion was wealthy, refined, nobly born and privleged to power and importance. He was everything Heero was not. Heero caught sight of the prince just in front of the door, greeting a woman in a glittering silver dress. Damion bowed to kissed her hand, tilting her wrist at a precise angle with his own hand, gloved in white. She laughed and pleasantries were exchanged between them before she continued on inside, escorted by another man a good many years her senior, the tips of her fingers resting lightly on his arm. 

"Hey, Heero!" Duo said from behind him, clapping him on the shoulder. "Can you believe this? I totally don't belong here." 

Heero kept his expression neutral. "Yeah," he agreed, and tried to think of any excuse for leaving. Thoughts of the Wing Zero came again into his head. Battles. Battles were his scene, not this. The only reason he would ever be in a place like this was on a mission, like he had attended some functions to watch Relena before. It was easier then, when he knew his presence in such a place was illegitimate, that he was faking it, that he had a secret. Secrets were psychological advantages. But now he felt stripped to nothing, reminded of who and what he really was. It was not this. It could never be this. 

"Damion's coming our way," Duo said cheerily. "Way to make a poor pilot feel important. I'm loving this!" 

Heero tried not to look at him, tried not to feel embarrassed. Duo would be the sort to pretend to be something he was not, to socialize with these people as if he were on their level, but all they would do was humor him and then laugh as soon as he was gone. He had already caught a few curious glances in their direction. People such as they could never merge into this society. Even Quatre would have difficulties with it. His money was the business sort, earned by hard work, not the sort that filtered through his hands by generations of habit. His company would be tolerated, even humored, but in the end dismissed. Was that how Damion thought of them? Was he polite in their presence, but amused and dismissive as soon as they were gone? Heero couldn't be sure. Damion was more Relena's friend than his. It was her company he sought, her life style, her love all those years ago. The thought was unsettling. What did Relena think of him? 

Abruptly Damion was upon them, a waitor following on his heels with champagne glasses balanced on a tray. Damion took one and handed it to Heero and then to Duo before taking one for himself. The waitor bowed and left them at a gesture. 

Damion sipped on the champagne lightly. "I'm glad to see you both here," he said with a small smile. "I was afraid you might feel intimidated by all the formality." 

Formality? A polite word for money and high society in Damion's vocabulary. Heero took a swallow of his champagne and tried to stop thinking. Why was he feeling this way? His thoughts were downright belligerent, and unfair to such a benevolent host. He decided to let Duo talk if talking was necessary. He wasn't dissapointed. 

"It's fun so far," Duo said cheerily. "Still waiting on the ladies, though." 

"They'll no doubt be fashionably late," Damion said dryly. 

Heero swallowed and looked down at his champagne glass. He took a swallow and tried not to look anyone in the eye. He suddenly had more of a loathing to see Relena than ever before. It was strange, and sudden. Was it really her he did not want to see, or her in this atmosphere? Why did things have to be so complicated? He knew he loved her. He knew it. Even now emotion stirred gently in his heart, beneath his disquiet and unexplained anger. He had no reason to be angry, but he could not help wondering, wondering if she really loved him. If so, whatever did she love him for? He was a soldier, her protector, and yes, her lover. But should he be that last? Was it really allowed? He wanted sex with her, even now he wanted that, but was it really her, or would just any girl who cared for him as she cared do? The thought made him sick. 

Where could this relationship possibly lead? There seemed to be only two destinations, and both were unthinkable. 

"Heero, are you okay?" Damion asked him abrubtly, concern showing from his grey eyes beneath the dark hair. 

Noble Prince Damion. Friendly Prince Damion. Romantic Prince Damion. Heero had stabbed this man once. He had stabbed him over a girl. Could it really be said that they were friends, even now, or was he faking it, just as he faked so many relationships? 

_You only want to sleep with her._

Yes, Damion had said that, exhausted in the rain and mud, physically defeated, but not destroyed. Heero had denied the accusation. He had claimed he loved her, but was his jealousy then spurned of love, or lust? How was he ever to know the difference? 

Perhaps he merely mimicked what was expected of him while his true self glowered ever powerful from the dark shadows of his heart. How much could he really change in a few years? Was he really friends with Damion, Prince Damion, and did he really love Relena, Vice Foreign Minister Relena, Relena Peacecraft, the Queen of the World Relena? Or did he merely cling to her because he was desperate, desperate for love, for understanding, for unconditional compassion and trust? He was like a little lost child, foolishly in love with a girl who should have nothing to do with him. That she loved him back, or claimed she did, did not affect the matter. He was a fool, a lovesick fool, but still a fool. 

But God help him, he wanted her. He wanted her to be with him forever, in love or lust or neither, he just wanted her to be there. He wanted to marry her. 

The crystalized thought was so clear and so shocking he almost dropped his glass, but caught himself at the last second. 

"I'm fine," he said a little breathlessly, but the worried expression on Damion's face indicated frank disbelief.   
  
  
  
  


Yeah, I know I suck for being slow with this chapter. I'm sorry. I had to cut my original intention in half because it was going to take too long. THANK YOU for being patient. I love my readers so much and read everything they write. PLEASE write a review and come back to read and review as I update for the next chapter. Believe me, the next chapter will be WORTH it! 


	6. As a Result of the Champagne

  
Temper the Soul 

Chapter 6 

by zapenstap 

  
  
  


Heero lounged against the wall uneasily, refusing to be irritated by the unceasing chatter and clinking of glasses around him. He held a glass of champagne forgotten in one hand, but he had yet to take a sip of it. Duo had already downed several and had spent the last ten minutes running about the room and laughing at nothing. Presently, he was pestering Quatre in a voice to loud for sobriety about the young ladies with which the blonde gundam pilot was merely casually speaking. 

Heero had long lost track of Damion, who was constantly being heralded by some visiting nobility, council lord or high brow aquaintance; he was always surrounded by at least four or five people. Even sober, the golden glitter and glare of the scene was beginning to give Heero a headache. He wanted nothing more than to slip out of the room and retreat to the quiet of some darkened corner, but he desperately wanted to speak to Relena, to pour out his thoughts to her and be reconciled at last. He was a little afraid of her reaction, and knew the consequence of even suggesting some permanent understanding between them might destroy what they already had, but he felt if he was silent about it much longer that might happen anyway. Besides, he owed her an explanation for his recent behavior, and at the very least it would ease his mind and heart. And maybe, just maybe, the idea would please her. They could just ...toss their differences aside and come to some understanding with which to build a foundation, a life, a permant home. Maybe. 

"I hear you are quite an extraordinary aquaintence of young Damion," a voice murmured in his ear like the purr of a cat. 

He blinked and turned to see Julia standing largely before him, poised artistically like a figure in a painting. He immediately recognized the mysterious woman who had joined their group unexpectedly the other day on their outing into the countryside for lunch. Seeing her so suddenly, he was struck with the strange perception of how natural she melded into this atmosphere, how the glittering yellow of her gown seemed to flash gold like the candlesticks and goblets and the chandeliers. Her hair, also golden in color, wound its way up her hair in carefully plaited braids and then cascaded down over one shoulder in a haphazard, yet orderly, spill of curls and ringlets. It too, reminded him of the scene she seemed to characterize, beautiful, elaborate, showy and designed to inspire envy and devotion in equal porportion. 

"Julia," he said without much feeling or even tone. 

She smiled a small, secret smile and came closer, her long black lashes sweeping across her cheeks and she closed her eyes only to open then again as she paused by his shoulder, gazing at him askance. "I hear you have a discerning mind," she whispered, "and a dark, restless spirit." 

He tensed, not sure why she was speaking to him at all, much less in this manner. He knew she had some contrivance, some scheme or goal, but whatever she said about discenment, he could not puzzle it out. He fell into his comfortable habits and simply didn't answer her. 

She smirked. "Fair enough," she said. "I merely wished to know your mind about Miss Audrey, but I see you are not one much possessed by the importance of social graces or social matters." She laughed, like the quiet trilling of bells, and added humorously and off-handedly, "whatever are you doing with Relena Peacecraft?" 

"What do you mean?" he demanded, aware of the sharp cut in his tone. 

She turned her head a fraction of an inch to regard him in some surprise, but he didn't believe she was as startled as she appeared. She made him nervous. It had been a long time since anymore made him nervous. "Nothing, I suppose," she replied with a silvery tongue full of some undefined threat. "She's a lovely girl. I'm just not sure she's your type. How curious." 

He was about to say something in Relena's defense, to tell this woman something about Relena's bravery, her spirit, her compassion, but before he could organize his thoughts into something intellible Julia was gone, sweeping away and dissolving into the crowd like an apparition. 

"Heero!" 

Heero turned, startled and flustered and a little angry with himself. Damion smiled at him, looking a little flushed and glazed about the eyes, but otherwise his usual self, though in a better mood than Heero had seen him lately. "Are you drunk?" Heero asked, somewhat surprised in spite of himself. 

Damion just looked at him with a bemused smile on his face. "Drunk? Oh, no, not yet. Your friend Duo is, though." He laughed lightly, and Heero noticed that his hands were empty, having either finished his glass or set it down some time ago. "It wouldn't do for me to drink too much," he added thoughtfully, blinking, "especially before the girls even get here, though it makes a man braver. Where _are_ they anyway?" He looked about him as if he expected to see Audrey hiding under the table or Relena on the staircase. 

Heero didn't answer, not knowing the answer, and totally confounded by the subtle change in Damion's personality. The only time he had ever really drinking much alcohol was in his depression, and always alone. He hadn't touched it in any noticeable quanity in some time. Damion wasn't drunk, but he had been drinking, like most everyone in the room probably, except Heero, and the effect shows in his good mood if nothing else. 

"I probably shouldn't have had so much," Damion confessed. "But, I don't know. I thought it would help, for a little bit anyway. I'm so tense and tired..." he waved a hand across his eyes, "but with Audrey... I really should have refrained. She doesn't seem like someone who drinks. God, I don't know anything about her, do I?" 

Heero stared at him, catching the subtleness in his tone, the unspoken plea for understanding. Heero wanted to shake his head, to say something comforting or encouraging but he couldn't come up with anything. 

Damion stood lost in his own thoughts for a moment and then shrugged. "I suppose it doesn't really matter in the end, does it? God, I envy you sometimes." 

Heero opened his mouth to protest that there was nothing, _nothing_ about him or his life to envy, but he was forestalled when Damion's head snapped up suddenly, his eyes transfixed on something behind Heero. "God she's beautiful. Why does she have to be so damn beautiful, Heero? I can't tell what I... I don't know..." But he smiled in a strange way, his eyes softening as he reflected on some beautiful secret thought and walked past Heero as if he had quite forgotten him. 

Heero turned, expecting to see Audrey, and he did see her, sort of, but she was a blur of dark hair and silver jewelry compared to the golden-haired vision in the red dress by her side. Heero stared at Relena and felt his knees lock, his spine stiffen. Without thinking about it, he downed the champagne in his hand and set the empty glass on the tray of a passing waitor. He felt sick to his stomach and light in the head, and it was not the alcohol. She just had that effect on him, standing alone, surrounded by people, looking at Audrey and Damion, her mouth moving in some casual speech. Heero couldn't make out Damion or Audrey. They were obscured by the light that seemed to pulse from Relena's glowing skin, her golden hair, the blaze of her eyes. Her hair hung down her back and curled at the ends, some of it pulled over her right shoulder. Her eyes shimmered like the sky in summer, luminous, tropical, deep as the dome of the Earth. 

He realized suddenly that she was looking at him, was moving toward him with a smile on her face, and the recognition of the fact shocked and confounded him. Her smile had a peculiar effect. It was one of those smiles that seemed to smile only for him, because of him and nothing else, a smile that singled him out as the sole reason for any of her smiles. His heart beat rapidly in his chest as she grew close enough for words to be heard, and he tried to speak them, he really did, but nothing came into his head to say. He couldn't even open his mouth. 

He forgot there were other people in the room. She opened her mouth as if to say something to him since he hadn't spoken first, but he grabbed her hand and pulled her close to him before she could speak, kissing her softly but deeply on the mouth, letting his hand hold one side of her face, caressing her skin, fingers threading into her hair around her ear. She clove to him, wrapping one arm around his shoulders, her body molding to his. He wrapped his other arm around her body, his hand pressed against the small of her back, feeling the material of her dress under her fingers. 

He broke the kiss when he needed air, but didn't pull away, breathing into her mouth. She swallowed, lowering her head, and flung her other arm lazily around his neck, hugging him. He held her for a minute, swaying to the music that suddenly came through his senses from the band across the room, and realized abruptly that they were in public. He had never kissed her in public, certainly not like that, and never around people who knew them. He looked over her head for anyone he knew who might have seen, but abruptly didn't care and bent his head back over her shoulder. 

"Heero," she whispered when the song ended, for the duration of the song they stayed locked together in silence. She didn't say more, looking up at him as if she expected him to say something first. 

He smiled at her and a cascade of feelings and thoughts nearly overwhelmed him, but he struggled to say anything. He could scarsely believe she was really here with him. It just seemed so strange. "Let's dance a bit more," he said quietly. 

She laid her head on his shoulder in compliance and he tightened his arms about her waist. She was so soft, so warm, yet he could feel the tireless energy of her spirit in the beat of her heart, in the small movements of her body, and felt his own heart beat in time so perfectly. Breathing in the scent of her hair, he let his mind drift, and barely knew whether or not he was dreaming. 

***** 

Damion took Audrey's hand as Relena began to move toward Heero in a bee-line, but he didn't give the other couple any thought at all. 

"Your beautiful," he breathed, and flushed. It just came out. He kissed Audrey's hand gently, bowing over it like a gentleman. He would have liked to kiss her mouth, prettily painted and glossed with make-up, but of course he couldn't. He wondered if her lips would taste like candy, and if so, to what degree the lip gloss played a part. 

She stared at him, a mixture of pleasure and confused apprehension swirling in the depths of her eyes. Then her good breeding kicked in and a demure smile flashed across her face. "Thank you," she replied in cool, poised tones, and let him lead her to the dance floor. 

How much did she want to be led? She was all poise and self-control again, graceful in every movement, her expression a painted mask of gentle felicity. Her eyes shone, though, and he knew she was thinking about something. Was she thinking about him? God, but he wished he knew how she really felt about all of this. 

He took wrapped one hand about hers carefully, placing his other hand gently around the curve of her waist. She rested her hand lightly on his shoulder, letting her arm fall over his just slightly as they danced. There was enough space between a couple in formal dancing to be able to look the other person in the face without embarrassment of artificial intimacy, and so he was able to look into her eyes and try to read her thoughts in their depths. She was truly stunning tonight. The deep blue of her dress made her pale skin radiate a frosty light like the glimmer of silver, an effect complimented by her jewelry, silver and diamonds. 

They danced mostly in silence that first song, with a few compliments from him and a few return jokes from her. Her manner made him a little nervous. It reminded him of the way most girls behaved around him, witty and aloof, always trying to be coy or impressive or clever. He wondered if she was falling back on habits trained in her from childhood, perhaps because she felt something for him and it scared her? No, that would be too much. Why then? If she was having second thoughts... 

"You seem tense," he said quietly in a light tone. 

"Have you been drinking?" she asked him. 

He blinked. "Some," he said. "I'm not drunk or anything, though. Do you have something particular against alcohol? I'm 21." 

Her brow crinkled. "No, it's not that. I was just curious, that's all." She smiled at him, but it seemed forced. "Do I really look tense?" 

He whirled her about and she laughed. The whole room seemed to brighten when she laughed like that. "Yeah, some," he said. "Do _you_ want a drink?" 

She bit her lip, looking nervous. "No, I think I'm all right. I haven't had a drink in... a long time." She frowned, not looking at him. 

He grinned. "Bad experience?" 

Her attention refocused on him. "Yeah, I guess." She blinked. "Maybe I should have a drink." 

"You don't have to," he said quickly, feeling as if he had pressured her into something. 

"Oh, no, I want to," she said. "I should get over..." she trailed off, but her tone was firm. 

Damion looked up and waved a hand at a waitor. He led Audrey off the dance floor as the waitor approached them. He lifted two glasses from the tray and handed one to her. 

"Maybe we should toast?" Audrey said dubiously, staring at the contents in the glass with some concentration. 

"What to?" he asked. 

"New beginnings?" she suggested, and raised her glass. 

"New beginnings," he agreed, clinked his glass to hers and took a swallow. She drank too, a generous sip, and then paused as if reflecting on the taste. 

They stood there a while longer, sipping and chatting about nothing, which frustrated him in a way because he wanted nothing more than to dig into her head and feel out her heart, but he was content with the casuality of the situation since that was what she seemed comfortable with. 

"Damion! Miss Audrey!" 

Damion turned to see Manny and Terese stumble toward them. They were both drunk and trying to hide it, but there was something about being drunk that made one want to share it with other people. Damion, starting to feel the effects of yet another glass of champagne was amused and didn't think anything of it. Audrey seemed startled at first, but then smiled and took another sip from her glass. 

"Damion," Manny said as if beginning a speech of grave importance, but his head bobbed and he smiled as if at some secret joke. Terese gestured imperiously for him to continue, though her gestures were a bit limp. "Damion, I'm really sorry I'm drunk at your party," Manny continued, swinging his head, "but I just wanted you to know that I feel bad about not really _being_ there for you lately." He looked up at the ceiling. "I mean, you're my master and my best friend and I've been avoiding you some this weekend, I admit, when you needed me most. And I just feel _awful_ about it." 

Audrey was laughing silently now, as if watching some comic show. 

"That's okay, Manny," Damion replied with mock-gravity. "Things have been a little weird for everybody." 

Manny nodded and looked up at the ceiling again. "Have we always had those chandeliers? I swear to God they didn't look like that last year." He turned to Terese. "Did they look like that last year?" 

"I don't _know,_" she said in long tones, and ended in somewhat of a giggle. She grabbed his arm. "We should go somewhere else," she suggested in a loud whisper. "Where we won't embarrass Damion's guests." 

Manny nodded to her a little too vigorously and swiveled his head back to Damion. "My Lord Prince Regent Damion Ravineere," Manny said over formally. "I ask leave to be dismissed." 

"Permission for leave granted," Damion replied with a laugh. "I'll see you tomorrow, Manny." 

"Okay," he replied emphatically, and allowed Terese to pull him away. 

Audrey laughed when they were gone. "Does that happen a lot?" 

"Uh..." Damion said. "Not really. They seem to be having a good time, though." His own head was starting to swim a little, and he felt the warmth of the alcohol in his blood. "Do you want to dance again?" 

She agreed and he led her out onto the floor for another dance. He wanted to hold her closer, but refrained only by strict discipline. By the end of the dance, his head was a little clearer, but he felt warmer than ever. "Do you want to go outside? I'm a little hot." 

She nodded. "Yeah, I'm a little warm myself. Is it the room or the alchohol?" 

He shrugged. "_You've_ only had one glass," he said, and was aware that his sophistication was being slowly absorbed in the alchohol. Suddenly, everything seemed silly or amusing. 

She laughed at him. "How many have _you_ had?" 

"More than one," he replied ambiguously. "I'm just sorry I'm alone. I do apologize, but we'll go outside and maybe the cool air will clear my head a bit." 

To this she agreed and took his arm as he led her out to the balcony. The air did clear his head a little, though it really wasn't that bad to begin with. He led her to one of the stone benches and they both sat down, looking out over the city, the hills, and the starry sky beyond. 

"It's a beautiful view," Audrey said, and he watched her face, pale as the petals of white lily, stare up into the sky. She was leaning slightly over the rail, the curves of her body outlined by the position, and he couldn't help wondering what it be like... She would be his wife. It wasn't the first time, but he immediately berated himself for the thought, feeling slightly shamed, and looked out over the city with her, at the glow of lights in the building like a paler reflection of the lights in the sky. 

"Tell me something about yourself," he said abrubtly. "Something you haven't told anybody before." 

She looked at him, her mouth slightly parted, her face glowing from the light of the moon and framed by a cloud of her dark, curled hair. She flushed and looked down at her hands curved over the railing. "Oh, I don't know," she said. "I can't think of anything." 

"I've always been afraid of being too easily defined," he said. "I learned how to fight when I was growing up so I wouldn't be thought as a rich, pampered prince. But I learned to ride a horse because it was expected of me. All the time I am here, I always do what's expected of me." 

"I always rebeled of what's expected of me," she breathed, her eyes wide and unfocused as she stared out into nothing. "My father left my mother and me when I was just a little girl, and he didn't come back until after my mother had died. I've never forgiven him for it. That's when... that's when..." 

He stared at her, amazed and concerned and surprised. "Audrey," he said quietly. 

She shrugged. "Oh, it's okay. I don't want anyone to feel sorry for me, but that's the reason..." she paused. "That's the reason I don't know if I believe in love, so..." She smiled at him. "I like you, Damion," she said. "I do, really. I just don't know..." 

There was only one way to find out. He leaned in to kiss her, slowly so she would know that he was going to. She sat perfectly still as his lips brushed against hers gently, softly. Her eyes closed, her breathing quickened. Encouraged, he wrapped his hands about her arms carefully. For an instant, he thought he felt her kiss him back, and that peculiar gut feeling in his stomach almost overwhelmed him with a burst of passion, but suddenly she stiffened and jerked back, her eyes wild. "Take your hands off me," she gasped, and breathed raggedly, like a trapped animal. 

He released her immediately, his hands springing open. "Wha...?" he questioned, but she leaped to her feet and backed away from him in a flurry of motion, much to his confusion and surprise. 

"I can't," she cried. "I don't... I can't..." Her eyes darted like a trapped rabbit, a panic-stricken rabbit. "Forget it. Forget everything. I'm not..." her voice shook. "I'm sorry. I just can't marry you." 

And then she was gone, like a wisp of smoke. "Audrey?" he called. "Audrey!" 

He sat for a moment in stunned silence and confusion, his thoughts whirling and falling about like the broken pieces of a jig-saw puzzle. What had made her react like that? It couldn't have been what she had said about her father, surely. Not for just a kiss. Was it him? It had to be something about him, something he had said or done or just the way he was. She couldn't marry him, she said. She couldn't... 

After a minute or so, he stood and stumbled inside, seeking out another glass of champagne, which he downed all at once, much to the surprise of the waitor, before he picked up another and looked for some exit or escape from this nightmare reality. 

***** 

Heero wasn't sure how they ended up back in their rooms. They had danced a few dances, had a few drinks. The glare of the lights had seemed suddenly too bright, and the feel of her body beneath his hands had reawoken the desires he had tried to suppress. She had made the suggestion "let's get out of here," in a husky whisper and he had followed her without hesitation. 

Stumbling through the door, he kissed her neck, kicking the door closed with his foot. She kicked off her shoes and walked backward, her hands around his waist, her fingers clutching his clothes, pulling him forward after her. By the time they reached the bedroom he had lost his coat and a few buttons; the zipper of her dress had been pulled down. The back of her knees hit the bed and she fell gently onto it. He fell over her, propped on his elbows. 

"Heero," she breathed with urgency into his neck, her arms wrapped around his head and shoulders. "I missed you." She began to work at his buttons again. 

He breathed heavily, staring at her collarbone, her throat, the rise and fall of her chest in the confines of her dress. The fuzziness of the alcohol made things hazy and unclear, but something gave him pause. 

"What?" she asked, noticing his sudden confusion and hesitation. 

"I have to talk to you," he said, sitting up. What was it he wanted to tell her? He suddenly couldn't remember. It was like grasping at moonbeams. Damn his head. 

"Later," she said. "Talk to me _later_, Heero. I need this now." She reached for him again, but he disengaged her hands. 

The room spun. He blinked uncertainly, shaking his head to clear away the stars, but the stars mocked him. It was kind of funny actually, and he smiled. He looked about him in some bemusement, but remembering that he held her hands in his, he looked back again into her face, blinking. 

"You," he said. "You're..." he searched for the words, something to describe what she was, what she meant to him. She was everything. She was sacred. "I can't sleep with you," he said, feeling as if he had already communicated the reason. "We've changed," he said with gravity, trying to communicated the importance of this, "you and me, I mean. We..." 

She sat up, her eyes wide, her face a flat mask of anger and confusion. "What do you mean by that?" She demanded, and her voice shook. 

He stared at her. Why was she angry with him? He reached out to touch her face but she jerked her head away. "Relena," he protested. "You're an important person. Everything you do should be perfect. I..." 

She pushed him and he fell off the bed, cursing his lack of coordination. Wincing, he looked up at her, standing over him, tears in her eyes. Her voice shook. "What do mean, Heero?" she cried. "You think you're not good enough for me?" 

What had Julia said? "You don't seem like my type," he said, repeating words that only made partial sense to him. The minute they came out he realized how they sounded, and also that that was not what he meant. She didn't seem...but she was, she... "Wait!" he said desperately in response to the crushed look on her face. "I didn't mean it like that," he corrected. "I just mean we're very different, that our lives are different... I..." 

Tears flowed from her eyes now. Her voice trembled with them. "Is that the end, then?" she choked. "That's what it amounts to? Love isn't enough? Don't you love me, Heero?" 

He stared at her. Of course he did! "Relena..." 

"Heero, why won't you sleep with me? You don't desire me anymore? I'm too _high_ for you, too noble, my blood's too rich? It's okay to sneak around in the Cinq Kingdom, to do what we do behind closed doors as long as it's a secret, but not for real?" 

"Relena," he said, trying to get up. The room swirled about him. "I don't want to hide behind closed doors... I want..." 

"You want someone you don't have to do that with, is that it?" she said furiously. Her make-up was smeared now, and she scrubbed a hand across her face to clear the tears. "I'm just too damn aristocratic for this to ever work. You're not good enough for me." She laughed without mirth, and the tears continued to fall. "Fine," she said. "That's just fine. I guess I should have listened to my mother, to my brother..." she trailed off. "I really thought you loved me," she said quietly. "Two years ago I knew you did, but I guess the reality of Relena is a little different than the dream, isn't it? I guess as long as the girl is pretty enough, it's okay to kiss her and dance with her and sleep with her in secret, but she can't really become a part of your life." 

This was... terrible. This was _not_ what he wanted to talk about! . 

"Say something, Heero!" she screamed at him. "If you can't say it then show me. Take me now or let me go!" 

Take her? _Take_ her? "I can't," he gasped. Not like that. No. It should be... It should be... 

The tears streamed from her face. Sobbing, she gathered the hem of her dress in her hands and fled from the room. He was left in solitude, even as he had wanted earlier that night, alone and confounded and wishing desperately for the touch of gentle hands, for the understanding smile, for the glow in blue eyes that believed him to be the kindest, strongest person in the world. All he felt like without her was a drunk failure, a lost solider. 

***** 

Relena ran through the halls of the palace without any clear direction, lonely and horrified and aching with the need to be comforted. She found a quiet hall, dark and devoid of sound and light, and sunk against the wall. She brought her knees up to her chin and sobbed her tears into her dress. 

Oh God, she loved him. She was taken at first sight, she knew it, hopelessly devoted, completely without independence. She needed him like she needed air. She needed the touch of another human being who understood her, and she needed it to be him. Had Heero ever really understood her? Did he just see merely a princess politician who cared about him more than she cared about her own life? Was he just using her all this time to build himself up? 

Who was she? What was she? She stared at her hands, the hands that had held papers, money, the hands that had held guns. She could feel her spirit pulsing within her, the restless spirit that needed to _do_ something important, something for the world, the spirit that refused to be recognized for its efforts. Ah, selfless people were always the first to be dismissed. She had no ambition, no substance. She was merely a figure used to dazzle the ideals of fools and wishful thinkers. She was like an ointment for the sick, put on the shelf when it had served its purpose. 

She sobbed again, tears leaking from her eyes, burying her head in her knees and arms. 

"Relena?" 

She looked up, surprised to see Damion staring at her in astonishment just a few feet down the hall. He looked a little srunk, leaning against the wall, his gray eyes a little blurry, his face haggard. She sniffled and scrubbed tears from her face as he sat down quietly beside her. "What are you doing here?" she asked him quietly, her own head a little fuzzy. 

He didn't answer her. "Did you have a fight with Heero?" 

She nodded, choking back a new flood of tears. 

"What happened?" he asked gently. 

She smiled wanly at him. "Damion, do you ever have the feeling that you're so high that you can never really be known?" 

"What do you mean?" 

She leaned her head back. "I feel like a balloon, rising higher and higher, away from the world and everybody." She looked down. "Heero won't sleep with me," she said. "He doesn't think I'm his type." 

Damion nodded. "The higher you get, the less air there is too." He smiled at her. "Relena, you're a wonderful person. Heero's just a little blinded. He'll come around." 

She bit her lip. "You can only say that because you're a prince," she said quietly, teasingly, and smiled back at him. It was easy to feel comfortable with Damion. "You're wonderful too, you know," she said simply. "But you know how it is. Nice guys finish last. Nobody likes a humanitarian." 

He laughed. "Ha, I guess so." He stared at nothing for a moment in silence. "Thanks," he added suddenly. 

"For what?" 

He touched her face with the back of two fingers, startling her. "For understanding," he replied, "for being here," and those gray eyes swam with sudden emotion. She stared at him, feeling so lonely and so flattered. She leaned in of her own accord. 

Before she knew what was happening, before either of them knew, he had kissed her, or she had kissed him; she wasn't sure which it was. It was no simple kiss either. In fact, it might have been one of the strongest kisses they had shared, lasting several seconds. But the minute her senses returned to her, she jerked away. So did he. 

"Oh my God," she gasped in horror. "That... I...." 

"That was a terrible mistake," he agreed, and she noticed the fear in his own eyes. 

She could think of nothing more to say.   
  
  


* * *

  
Gosh, it starts off so good and then...yeah. Review this chapter, everything you liked or hated. Tell me what you want to see happen next, or what you think will happen, etc. etc. It's going to get better. 


	7. Bargain With the Self-Possessed

Sorry for posting this twice. It got cut off the first time so I thought I might as well put it up again.   
  
  
  


Temper the Soul 

Chapter 7 

by Zapenstap 

  
  
  
  
  
  


The palace had more or less emptied itself of its guests the day following the party. Only close personal friends and the usual staff and courtiers remained. But the palace was never entirely empty of all visitors. The reigning Lords, Taravren's politicians and executors of law, were in an out all the time, and had been since before Damion could remember. There were nine currently in the palace and another three out in the city, which meant twelve Lords in his close proximity, all demanding something. Some of them were old family friends and always welcome, others had been long colleagues with his father for many years and were familiar faces. Others were simply there on business, nothing personal, but there were always a few oppositions, at least one enemy and a new figure or two. To get anything done he needed to impress all of them, please them in some ways and purposely displease them in others. They needed to know that he was Prince Regent, that he would soon be King, that the power of governing Taravren was his, not theirs. He could not afford weakness, but neither could he scorn counsel and look a young fool on a power trip. He knew he was young and untried, they all did, and that made things difficult. 

There were also external pressures and powers to deal with. He'd been been aware since before his father's death that Taravren had been targeted as an example of old ways and out-worn traditions, but old ways _were_ old, practiced, habitual, and not to be uprooted lightly. Taravren was not a democracy and never had been, but neither was Damion sure democracy would be good for Taravren. That wasn't really his concern anyway, but it was his concern that trouble on the outside might become trouble at home. The anarchist, Able Gardiner, had recently proclaimed Taravren an example of oppressive governement, and of course, as Prince Regent, Damion was the labled as the source of such evil. As far as he knew, the threat was impersonal and likely to come to nothing, but he had people working around the clock to make sure of it, for the safety of Taravren as well as himself. 

Leaning back in his chair, dressed from head to toe in all his formal wear so that his presence could not help but be the focal point of the room, Damion concentrated on the talk of the council table. There were six Council Lords present, Oliver Crombe of Abenland, Alice Millimant, Lady of Wentenshore, Garret Iselin of Northfield, James Cattigan, Lord of Holden, Devon Thurmount of Chissley and Mary Filinty of Harborside, plus Terese to represent the staff, Manny as his personal servant and Oswold as Captain of the Guard. The last three were all but ignored by the Lords and Ladies, as usual, having no reigning power, but their presence, even in silence, was a comfort to Damion. The Lords themselves he knew well by now, or as well as his own observation, his mother's counsels and his advisors' warnings could inform him. He knew the worth and extent of each of their estates, their agendas, public and private, obvious and concealed, the things they needed, the things they demanded, the quirks of their personalities that made negotiations difficult, and exactly how far he could push whom and in what direction. He knew what a Prince regent needed to know. It was, after all, what he did all day, and was expected to do as long as he remained King. For awhile he had hoped that his public title as "president" would transfigure some the expectations of his responsibilities, but it was not so. Neither did he have a defined "term of office." All points considered, he would reign until his death, and these people would be both his help and his hinderance. 

"You met with Master Veron this morning, Prince Regent?" Lady Mary Filinty prompted with a slightly aloof air. 

Damion caught her shadowed looks, the coolness in her tone, and smiled inwardly. Her daughter has been a candidate for his wife, a nice enough girl she seemed too, but he'd be damned before he'd marry one of her relations. That was just the sort of power he could not afford to give anyone in this room. 

He nodded without hesitation and waved the matter away. "Yes. The marriage preparations are underway. The union between myself and Miss Audrey Veron will be officially announced this evening." 

This was met with nods of approval from the Lords, among whom this matter had been decided for him some days ago. But Terese blinked in surprise and looked at him with concern from across the room. He avoided her gaze and kept his face straight. This was business. It hurt, but that's what it was. 

Audrey. He tried not to think about her. He'd been trying all day. He did not understand what happened last night and he had not seen her since. He had been afraid she was leaving, that she had forsaken her promise to marry him and gone home. His life would have been chaos if she had. But then he'd received a message that her father had arrived in the city to meet Damion and make arrangements for the wedding, with Audrey's formally written consent. And then he realized what a trap it was. Audrey could not refuse to marry him. She did not have that power. She may have retracted her acceptance last night, but upon finding a quiet moment, she would remember how futile and useless it was. The realization had first relieved him, then horrified him. His position was a license for forced marriage, or at least coerced marriage, and really didn't seem too far from rape, maybe worse. He did not think Audrey hated him, or even disliked him, but he was afraid. Her good opinion mattered a great deal to him now that he had entangled his emotions in this affair, her affection more, but he was starting to understand that a union between them would likely be formal and passionless no matter what he did, at least at first. When there was no freedom to choose, there was less willingness to love. He would share the fate of his parents after all, it seemed, though in reverse roles. His mother had loved his father and taken her time to build a shared affection. And it had worked, after a fashion. In this case, the reversal of roles made it difficult. He didn't want to think about how things would be when the actual wedding day arrived, or how he would bring himself to consummate it if his wife did not love him, if she felt forced.... He did not want to think about it. He tried not to, but it was hard, harder because he desired her. 

With so much to complicate the situation, he ought to have been content, but no, last night he had to go and do something phenominally stupid. Whatever possessed him to kiss Relena? She had always been a comfort and a friend, but last night she had looked so sad and he had felt so powerless over his own troubles. Maybe he was still competing with Heero? But no, he didn't really want Relena. He wanted Audrey, and that's what made it worse. He certainly hadn't helped Relena any. All he'd done was complicate things for both of them. They had sat there without speaking for several minutes before they could talk about it. It didn't matter that they both agreed that it didn't mean anything, that they both thought it was a mistake. Heero would find out. _Audrey_ would find out. And when she did, what was she supposed to do? What was he supposed to say? 

The meeting dragged on, eventually deviating from local problems and back to Taravren's troubles with Gardiner. Damion set aside his personal difficulties and focused on what was important for Taravren. He hoped it would not be a war. If all went as it should, it would not be, but he wanted to keep himself out of it is at all possible. Still, his presence might be called for. No one would be happy if it came to that, but he rarely got to make decisions for himself in such respects. 

At half-past three, the meeting came to an end and the Council Lords were formally dismissed. Terese and Manny remained behind a moment, sharing knowing looks between them. 

"What?" he demanded when he was sure the others were gone. 

Terese pushed a strand of black hair behind her ear and avoided his eyes. "Why didn't you tell any of us about all of this before?" she asked quietly. "I mean, I thought you had enough on your plate with the funeral and first choice... I didn't know about any of this." 

Manny coughed and scrubbed a hand through his light brown hair. "I knew the Lords had decided on Audrey, Prince Damion," he said. "And I heard some rumors about this Gardiner fellow and all, but..." 

"Don't worry about it," Damion said to both of them and smiled. "I'm not dealing with it by myself. I don't do anything but sit in this chair and listen to the proposals of others." He smiled and kicked his feet up on the table. "I assure you I am perfectly fine." That actually wasn't really true at all, but it would do for an excuse to relieve their minds. He really was perfectly fine; just busy, and really, wasn't everyone busy? 

Terese gribbed her notebook to her chest and made a face. "But your responsible," she muttered, and sighed, rolling her eyes. "Oh, all right. I guess it's not such a surprise that you're busy or anything. Do you think your life is in danger?" 

"No," he said promptly. "Not unless this Gardiner comes knocking on the gates, and I seriously doubt that." 

"But you might have to go there," Manny said a little uneasily. "If things escalate and Taravren commits to the plan..." 

Damion smiled. "I really wouldn't worry about it, Manny," he said confidently. "Really, I wouldn't." Even if he did have to go, he would be put up in a tower with a heavy guard and not be anywhere near the fighting. 

"I have to go," Terese said apologetically. "I still have a hang-over and I've been trying not to fall over all day." 

Damion didn't have a hangover. He had not been able to sleep and went to bed with a clear head. Whatever was left over left him by midday. He didn't even feel that tired now, not physically anyway. A lucky stroke in a long line of bad luck. "Go rest, then," he said to her. "I have a lot of paperwork to do anyway, and there are wedding plans to make." 

Terese laughed. "Oh, don't worry, Prince Damion. I'll be there to help you with _that_! Like I would trust you to do it on your own. Besides, I'm sure Audrey has a few ideas. Girls usually do, you know." 

He smiled a little sadly. "I know. Goodnight, Terese." 

She smirked, shuffled her grip on her notebook and left the room, closing the door softly behind her. 

"What's up with you and Audrey?" Manny said suddenly, grabbing a chair and pulling it close to Damion's. 

Damion looked up at him in surprise. It had been some time since they had really talked about anything. "What do you mean?" 

"You discuss the wedding like it's a death sentence. Your face was like a stone all morning. You don't like her now? Did her father say something?" 

Damion shook his head. "No, nothing like that." After what he had learned from Audrey about her father leaving her, he had expected someone he would dislike, but it had not been so. Audrey's father was well-mannered, intelligent, generous, completely normal. He had wanted to make sure that Damion would take care of his daughter, of course, that he wasn't harsh or cold or ill-tempered, but he had had no objections in the end and seemed rather more concerned with dates and the technicalities of the marriage itself. He had seemed fond of his daughter, in a troubled way, and Damion felt that the man knew he had made a mistake, and also knew it was too late to change anything. Perhaps passing his daughter off to his Prince was the best fix he could think of. Master Veron had served his family loyally all his life, had served as a well-respeced Admiral in the Navy all his youth and great deal of his adult life. Maybe he had just been unable to let all that go, even for his family, and now was doing his best to fix things. It was hard on Audrey, though. Maybe it shouldn't be, but it was. 

"There's not much he can say to his Prince anyway," Manny said softly, resting his elbows on his knees. "He owes you his allegiance. So does Audrey." He paused. "That's what's got you all twisted up, isn't it?" 

Damion didn't respond. He merely stared straight ahead, unable to say anything. 

Manny blinked. "Damion, I know you think you're alone, but I grew up with you and I understand you. You're my master and it's been my business all my life to know you, your desires, your needs, your expectations. I know it feels stupid sometimes, but I do take it seriously. I know this has got to be really hard for you. Your mother said as much to me the other day." Damion let his head fall in his hands and rubbed his forehead against his palms. Was he really that weak and transparent? 

"I'm just tired, Manny," he said quietly. "Not of my job, but the emotional strain of it. I can do this, I just can't feel it. It's like something has died in me and I can't bring it back to life." 

"You feel isolated," Manny said. "I sensed that about you right after your father died, like you'd built up these walls and didn't want to be bothered by anybody anymore. I ought to have bothered. I'm sorry for that." 

Damion nodded but didn't look up, still troubled. "Sometimes I wonder if I see Audrey as some sort of compensation for my situation, some sort of relief, but it's has been a burden more than a help, and I am sorry I got so emotionally involved in it." 

"You don't mean that," Manny returned. 

He looked up then, facing his friend with a steady eye. "Don't I?" he asked hoarsely. "Don't I mean it? Manny, I don't _know_ her. I wanted to create a wife and a loving companion out of somebody I didn't even know. And I wanted to do it quick. I wanted the support a loving wife can give me, not her." 

"I think you really like her," Manny said stubbornly. "Maybe that other stuff too, but I think underneath that you really like her. She's a nice girl, smart, and I think she could be everything you want, if you just give it time. You should count yourself lucky." 

Damion smiled fondly to himself, envisioning her face, the depth of her eyes, her control and wit and kindness. Yeah, he liked her. "I do, Manny," he said quietly. " I do. I just don't know how to act." 

"What happened last night?" Manny asked. "Everybody says you disappeared just after midnight. Audrey vanished too. There were rumors until this morning. I think Terese squashed most of them, but... I mean, you didn't..." 

Damion's head snapped up, catching the insinuation. "No. God, no. We had a...disagreement and went our separate ways was all." 

"That's what Terese said. I don't know what she told everyone else, though." 

Damion rubbed his head again. He hadn't considered what other people would be saying about last night's episode. Thank God no one knew about Relena. There hadn't been anyone around. But maybe it would be discerned, if people knew that Relena had also vanished from the party, if either she or Heero said anything about who they were with, or _weren't_ with, last night. Oh God. He had to keep them quiet. They were his friends, but he had to keep them quiet. He was pretty sure they wouldn't want it known anyway, but if what happened wasn't to be talked about, both Audrey and Heero had to know what happened. God, what a mess. He would have to talk to both of them. But how would Heero react? The implications horrified him. Anything could happen, and it must not. What would he have to do...? 

"Damion?" He blinked, staring up at Manny in surprise. "Damion, what are you thinking about?" 

"Nothing," he gasped. "I need to talk to some people is all." 

Maybe he was overreacting. It was just a kiss after all, and a drunken one at that, nothing so bad as Manny had just suggested. But he could not see Heero "understanding" something like this. The guy had tried to kill him over Relena before, and he had done nothing wrong then; he had been innocent. This time he was not quite so innocent, and Gundam Pilots had a strong sense of justice. How should he handle this? 

"Damion," Manny said quietly, sounding a bit reproached. "When you feel like talking again, let me know okay?" 

"Manny..." he protested. "Don't be offended, please. I just have to think through this first." 

"Think through what? _What_ happened?" 

Damion raised his hands, but let them fall. "I'll tell you," he said. "Just... I have to talk to someone else first." 

Manny nodded. "All right. That's fair, I guess. I'll see you later, Damion." He gathered his things and walked out, leaving Damion alone in the room. 

Silently, Damion removed his formal coat and laid it over the back of his chair. He also disengaged the circlet from his hair, removed it from his brow and laid it on the table. They were silly things really, objects, but objects that couldn't be argued with. Propping is elbows on the table, he rested his chin on his folded hands and stared at nothing, mulling things over. After a minute he decided he needed to get his mind off of it and began pouring over the notes left spread out before him, making mental priority lists and to whom he should delegate responsibility. He was so involved that at first he did not hear the knock at the door. 

"Come in," he said without looking up. 

Audrey stepped into the room and shut the door softly behind her without turning, hiding her face from him as she looked away. He started, swallowing, and all thoughts of last night that didn't involve her flew right out of his head. She was dressed in white, a white dress that flowed from her shoulders to her toes and accented the contrast between the pale cream of her skin and the dark shine of her hair, lightly curled. Of course, her father had come in today and would expect her to look her best... but he was not thinking of that. 

The way she looked and acted, so beautiful and so apologetic, reminded him of when Relena had come see him that last time two years ago, to tell him she was going with Heero and that she was sorry. He wondered what Audrey had to say to him now, and if it would make him just as bitter. 

"I saw your father this morning," he said quietly. 

"I know," she replied. "I even knew he was coming, and did not tell you... I..." She put a hand to her face and looked at him. "I'm sorry about what I said yesterday. I didn't mean it." 

He wasn't sure how to react. "Of course you couldn't have," he said. "You signed the consent this morning. What I want to know is what you want, not what you can or can not do." 

Her eyes drifted to the floor. "I don't know what I want," she said quietly. "I was happy enough alone, I think, and all of this is very frightening... I..." she stopped, biting her lip. "I'm sorry about how I reacted. I... don't know what came over me." 

"You wouldn't let me kiss you. How are we supposed to be married if I can't even kiss you? Am I that repulsive?" 

She looked at him, bright eyes shimmering slightly. "It wasn't the kiss," she said. 

He was confused now. "It wasn't? I can kiss you?" 

She nodded. "I think so. I'm..." 

"Have you been kissed before?" he asked. 

She nodded again. 

An obscure corner of his mind wondered who, but he didn't give it much form. "Then what was it?" he asked instead, puzzled. "You don't have to stand way over there, you know." 

She straightened and crossed the room to where he sat at the table. She did not sit down, but fingered the papers spread out before him absently. She was close enough for him to touch her, but he didn't move. Did she want to move so close, or had she obeyed what might have sounded like a command? 

She still was not looking at him. "It was the way you grabbed me," she said, sounding a little confused herself. "I know you didn't mean anything by it..." 

"I just wanted to hold you," he said quietly. Had he grabbed her? He couldn't remember. Why was that a big deal? 

She nodded and her fingers danced from the corners of the papers to where his hand lay still beside them, but she didn't touch him. He kept his entire body still, very aware of how close she was, and how forbidden. "Damion," she said, and looked him straight in the eyes. He paid attention, absorbing her words for all they were worth, weighing the naunce of every word. "Promise me you won't try to force anything on me. This marriage isn't romantic. It can't be. I might love you, maybe, but don't rush me, or expect anything, please." He was so caught by those eyes he couldn't move. He was surprised how little what she was saying hurt him. As long as he could keep her here... he would accept anything. She fumbled for words. "I may not be capable of feeling...what you want me to feel for you before the wedding, maybe not ever." Her eyebrows lowered over her eyes in such a degree of compassion as she looked at him that he was startled. "But I promise I'll be good to you, as well as I can be. I can't promise anything more, but you deserve that." 

Good to him. "I know," he said, and his voice sounded strangely hoarse to his ears. "But it's not so easy as that." 

He knew that she knew what he meant by the flush in her cheeks. He couldn't force anything on her, nothing but marriage and sex and children and his power to take away everything that she owned and make it his. How was that supposed to work? If she started like a rabbit when he tried to hold her, how were they supposed to... He swallowed, remembering how close she was right that instant, how inviting she looked. Oh God... 

She shook her head and suddenly looked him straight in the eyes. He flushed under that scrutiny and tried to clear his head, but she smiled at him like she knew what he was thinking. Her hand was so close to his. "It's okay," she said, and that aura of self-possession that so fascinated him enveloped her. "I've thought some about that and I'm not worried about it. I told you I would be good to you and I will be. We're still new to one another. Maybe when..." she flushed again and looked away. " Maybe by then there will at least be a... familiarity between us, some sort of affection. You know people go to bed with much less, and I do _like_ you. I just can't promise to develop the sort of feelings you want in a wife. I think I can do everything else." She touched his hand with hers then, just grazing it with her fingertips. 

Her touch was like electricty. His energy was so pent up with her being so close to him without being able to touch her that the sudden contact jolted him. The hand she touched seized hers lightly, curving around her palm. She gasped and stumbled forward, just catching herself from falling into his lap with a hand on his shoulder. But her knees touched his in her unbalance and her face fell just inches in front of his face, where she breathed for a moment in respite, staring into his eyes. She ought to have been embarrassed, but she just stared into his eyes. 

He took a cue and kissed her then, moving just inches forward until his mouth met hers and he kissed her. He let go of her hand when he did it, and kept his other hand still on the armrest so she would be free, though he would have liked to pull her into his lap and wrap an arm around her waist if he thought she would let him. After a moment, it didn't matter. She returned his kiss, breathing into him, and both her hands relaxed on his shoulders. He stopped thinking at that point and she sat down on his knees of her own accord. 

He kissed her more deeply and then broke away, watching her expression. Her eyes were closed at first, her chest heaving gently, but her eyes slowly opened and she was able to look him in the face and smile a closed-mouthed smile. "Not so bad?" he questioned. 

"Nice," she admitted with a small smile. 

He risked raising a hand to her face, pushing her hair out of her way and tucking it behind her ears. It was soft, soft and silky. He touched her head, gently, but then he pulled his hand away, afraid of crossing boundaries. "All right," he said huskily, letting his eyes roam over her face, trying to read her. "I won't expect anything. Just be honest with me and we'll just take it as it comes, okay?" 

"Okay," she said in barely a whisper, and moved slowly off his lap, her hands disengaging from his shoulders. He tried to suppress dissapointment. He liked her there. He ought to have kissed her again. He still hadn't been able to touch her really, but from what he could tell, he thought her very soft, soft and firm and pretty and... "Damion," she said quietly as she moved to the door. "Thank you." 

He nodded, though he wasn't sure what she was thanking him for. She opened the door and closed it behind her, fading away like a dream. He watched her go with a light head. He could deal with this situation. She liked him and that was enough. He just wouldn't expect anything on her side... no matter how deeply he was falling for her.   
  
  
  
  


Oh, you waited all this time and there's no Heero and Relena! Don't you like Damion and Audrey...? Oh, poor readers, but that's okay, because there's lots of Heero and Relena coming in the next chapter, I promise. 


	8. Last Chance of the Soldier

  


Temper the Soul 

Chapter 8 

by zapenstap 

  
  


Heero awoke late in the day, alone in an empty bed much too large for him. He breathed in the freshness of the morning, blinking slowly. Her scent was everywhere, her presence was everywhere. She, however, was quite gone. 

His head pounded like a kettle drum. He'd been sick last night after she ran out of the room, but he wasn't sure if it was the alcohol from the party or the gut-wrenching twist of emotions in his stomach that made him ill. God, what had he said last night? What had he done? Well, he knew, pretty clearly anyway. He had meant to say one thing and ended up conveying something radically different. He remembered the tears in her eyes, the wild accusations, and felt his heart plummet out of his chest for unintentionally hurting her. His arms ached to hold her, but she wasn't there, and it was his fault she had fled from him. There was no denying that he missed her, that he loved her. And there was no confusion at all. He wanted her back. 

Panic. He half sat up in fear, his heart rate quickening three-fold. Had they broken up? No, he didn't remember that happening. Good. All he had to do was find her and apologize and explain his inconsistent behavior and what he had been thinking about. He had to tell her that he had been thinking how their relationship confused him because relationships confused him, and that loving her so much frightened him more than anything had before. He also needed to tell her that he had thought about marrying her, that he thought that's what he wanted. He still couldn't connect the two lines of thinking, though. Being in a relationship with her frightened him, but somehow making that permanent would make it better, even perfect? It seemed so strange, and what if she rejected his proposal or wanted him to explain himself further? 

And what about marriage really? Should he suggest the idea before he officially proposed, or just do it and hope for the best? Didn't that mean he would have to buy her a ring? A house? No, they could do that together. Where would they live anyway? She was not really bound to the Cinq Kingdom any longer, not since the nation was dissolved, but her family was there and she would want to be close to everyone. They could get a little house away from the city where there won't so many people. What if she wanted children? He blinked, sitting up and dropping his head into his hands. Children... that was too much to think about. He didn't think he'd make much of a father; he couldn't really see himself in that role at all. Well, maybe he could, if she was his wife. He tried to imagine children, but the idea only served to amuse him, it seemed so strange. Well, never mind any of that. Back to basics. He wanted the girl. He needed her and he certainly wasn't going to allow anyone else to have her. He would take care of her for the rest of her life, wherever they lived or whatever happened. Of that he was sure, and really, if she didn't want him she could always say no. Thinking of himself as a husband was almost as weird as thinking of himself as a father, but maybe the terms weren't important; he knew he loved her and wanted her forever and that's all there was to it, right? 

Maybe he ought to just suggest the idea first, see what she thought. But he didn't want it to sound like compensation for his mistakes and awkwardness. "I'm sorry I offended you. I know, how about we get married?" would not be what she wanted to hear. Maybe he ought to resolve their disagreement before he brought it up then. What was the best way to do that? Well, he needed to explain why he wouldn't make love to her. Only now he couldn't remember the reason himself. Right now that was all he wanted to do, but she would require an explanation. 

He laid back down again, staring at the ceiling. Why had he refused her? Oh yes. He had realized how important she was to him, how much he loved her and suddenly the idea of _using_ her, or even having anyone _think_ he was using her for sexual satisfaction was just too repulsive to bear. So he had wanted to step back and evaluate their relationship, what it meant to him, where it was headed. He didn't want her soiled in any way, or confuse his love with his lust. Well, he had an idea of what he wanted now. Maybe this couldn't be explained without suggesting marriage. But what would she think of that, in general and especially after a fight? 

His head hurt a lot, but not as much as his heart ached. There had to be a way around this. Maybe if he just said it she would believe him. She loved him, didn't she, enough to trust him to be honest with her? Well, maybe that was a lot to ask. He had such a difficult time trusting in anyone himself, but he knew he could trust her implicitly, that she would never betray or abandon him, that she would follow him to the ends of the Earth and beyond if he asked her to. Yes, that was one thing he loved about her. He would do the same for her. 

Well, whatever he had to say he had better say it fast or lose his nerve. Shaking himself, he rolled out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom. As he got ready for the day he went over in his mind what he wanted to say to her, the exact words, the looks. Should he touch her? No, he ought to just talk first and then if her response was favorable he could hold her or kiss her... He blinked, trying to dislodge the aftereffects of alcohol. He needed to be absolutely clear-headed for this. 

Growing more determined and resolute in his decision, he washed and dressed in record time, adorning his nice clothes, down to the dress shirt and polished black shoes. He didn't wonder whether or not it suited him. There was no use worrying about "who he really was" anymore. He could be whatever she needed him to be, since he was no one without her. Even that line of thinking was untrue. He was still a person without her, a gundam pilot, a damn good soldier. He knew what he was about and he knew what he wanted. It was time to end all this self-doubt and low confidence. He'd never failed in anything before, and right now he wanted the girl. There was something about him that she loved and he could and would develop whatever strength she saw in him to use for her benefit as well as his. So she didn't know his real name, or his past, or... 

He hesitated, shaking, his hand on the door. No, he couldn't allow himself to get side-tracked. She knew the worst stuff. She loved him anyway. What did it matter that he had no family, no schooling, no identity? He was Heero Yuy, that was his code name. It might as well be his real name. He didn't have another to replace it with anyway. He didn't have parents. There was no love in his past. 

None of that mattered. He wanted the girl. 

He stepped out into the hall and scanned the way for anyone who might be able to tell him where she had gone. The hallwy was empty, but he just kept walking. Where would she have run to after walking out on him? She had to have slept somewhere. 

He made his way to Hilde and Duo's apartments, striding just beneath a run. He wished he had woken up a little eariler, but no matter; he would make the best of it. Taravren servants hurried by as he walked passed. The Palace seemed to be in a flurry of activity. Heero noticed, but he didn't wonder about it. Something to do with Damion probably. Everything that happened here had something to do with Damion. Right now, all Heero wanted was to find his girl. 

He knocked on Duo's door, once softly, then a little louder. 

"Hold on! Coming!" 

Slowly, the door opened and Hilde appeared in the crack. She blinked at him and opened the door wider, but he didn't come in. "Gosh. Are you angry or something?" 

He shook his head. Did he look angry? "No. I'm just... is Relena here?" 

Hilde sighed. "She stayed here last night, but she's gone now. She looked terrible. She said you had gotten in a fight. What happened?" 

"Do you know where I can find her?" he asked. "I need to talk to her." 

Hilde shrugged. "She left early this morning, even before Duo got up. She did a really good job pretending everything was fine but she seemed pretty stressed out and anxious. I asked her if she was going to call you and she started crying." 

He hated upsetting her. "All right," he said slowly. 

"Try the gardens," Hilde suggested. "They're always deserted at this hour and she looked like someone who wanted to be alone." 

Heero nodded, thanked Hilde quickly and strode away. He made his way to the gardens by memory, but was too distracted to enjoy the heavenly scents of blooming flowers, leaves and fresh earth and loam. His heart beat rapidly in his chest still at the thought of seeing her face. He was scared to say what he had to say, but the promise of relief loomed on the horizon. All he wanted to do was hold her, claim her. 

He turned the corner and stopped suddenly, catching a glimpse of a hair trailing over the side of a bench. He could only see the back of the bench and that bit of hair, glistening gold in the sunlight, but he knew it was her, sleeping in the garden. She had probably falled asleep crying. 

Softly, he approached until he was looking over the bench at her face. She was sleeping, angelic and beautiful, and she had been crying. The tears were dry on her face, still sparkling a little in the sunlight upon her pale cheeks. She was wearing a dress today, long and simple with the a bit of the shoulder exposed by a missing piece of fabric. Her arms were bare and beautiful, curled around her body, her hands tucked under head to make a cushion. Her hair spilled in all directions, over her neck and arms and shoulders, hiding her skin from his eyes with a lovely covering. 

Just looking at her was pleasant torture. He knew that body of hers, clothed and unclothed, but she was particularly beautiful now, even though her sleep was one of grief instead of contentment, grief he had caused her. He understood grief. He understood her. Hesitantly, he reached down and touched her hair, threading it through his fingers, brushing it away from her slender neck. 

She stirred and awoke, sitting up. He drew his hand back as her eyes, blue as the sky today, stared up at him. "Heero," she said quietly, and rose from the bench, standing up. There was a crushed look on her face when she recognized him, a look that smote his heart. 

"Relena, I want to apologize," he began quickly, before she could bring him down. "I didn't mean what I said last night. It wasn't what I meant to say." 

"Heero," she said softly, more softly than he had expected. She brushed hair out of her eyes. "Tell me why." 

"I didn't want to upset you," he said. God, how he just wanted to hold her right now. "I just wanted things to be perfect for us. I _want_ you, I do, but I want... more." 

She looked confused, gazing up at him with those sparkling eyes. She was thinking, he knew. Was he saying what she wanted to hear? "What do you mean?" she asked slowly. Apparently not. He would try harder. 

How to say this? "Relena, I've been thinking," he said urgently. His blood seemed to be pumping through his veins at a mile a minute now. His head swam with the heat of his body, pulsing with the pounding of his heart. He was perspiring. "I want you to understand how I feel about you, what you mean to me. Last night was a mistake. I don't want to fight. I just don't want anyone to think I've been using you. I don't want to feel guilting making love to you. Relena..." he took a deep breath. _How do you feel about marriage? Do you love me? Would you marry me?_ He couldn't ask. _Damn it, just say it!_ "Relena, I want to take care of you. I want to..." he swallowed, trying to convey with his eyes what he wanted to ask, but even if she understood, he knew he would still have to say it. But he could tell by looking at her that she didn't understand yet. 

"Heero, what about all that stuff about me being too good for you? You've been so hot and cold lately, I..." 

He shook his head dismissively. "Forget about that. I just... there's a lot you don't know about me. My real name isn't Heero, Relena." 

She blinked. "I know," she replied. "Dr. J told me. I've always known that. But you're my Heero to me... unless you want to be called something else." 

He began to breathe again. What was in a name? She was his girl; that's all he cared about; not her name. Had he even thought of her by name today? He never thought of her as "Relena Peacecraft" anymore. She was the girl, his girl, the only girl. Could he be the same for her? "Call me whatever you want," he said hoarsely. "Relena," he began again, and took her hand to give himself courage. He could feel the blood racing through the artery in her wrist. "I'm a soldier and I know I'm not what people would expect of you, but..." He took a deep breath and made the words come out, "I know you love me, that you've been faithful to me, and I..." 

She bit her lip and tears suddenly flooded her eyes. He started in surprise. Tears? Relena was not much of a crier really, not unless she felt something very strongly. If she wanted this, it should be happiness from her, joy, gladness, not sentimental weeping. She was not that sentimental. She must still be upset then. His heart ached and he couldn't help himself. He couldn't stand to see her cry, to make her cry. Gently, he reached out for her, clasping her about the waist, but keeping space between them. With his other hand he caressed her cheekbones with the back of his thumb, sliding her tears away. "Don't cry, Relena," he said. "Please don't cry. I'm trying to tell you..." 

She began to sob harder, convulsing. Pulling away from him, she brought her hands up to her face, weeping into her palms, hiding from him. He stood just inches from her, feeling helpless and rejected. "Relena?" he asked, afraid to touch her. 

"Heero, I'm sorry!" she cried. "I know other people wouldn't think it such a big deal, but...." 

What was she talking about? "What? Relena, what did I do?" 

She shook her head violently and was suddenly in his arms again, touching his face with her cool, slender hands like she might never get the chance again. He clasped her, breathing in the scent of her hair, fingers clenching into her body, kneeding the folds of her clothes. His breathing grew audible to his own ears and heat burned in his chest and stomach and groin. He swallowed, holding her, wondering if anyone was around... She was staring straight into his eyes, pressed up close against him, but the desire there was quite overcome by fear and anxiety. She was trembling. 

"Relena, what?" he murmured earnestly, controlling himself. 

She closed her eyes and he leaned down to kiss her, but she shuddered when he drew close and pulled away, her hands falling down to his chest, pushing against him. "Heero, I...." she stalled, panting, her hands still on his chest. "After we fought last night, you and I, I ran to be by myself..." 

He waited patiently, holding her arms. She dropped her gaze, no longer meeting his eyes. "Relena," he urged. 

She spoke again as if kicked to continue. "Damion found me crying. He was upset over something that happened with Aurey. We talked and we were both drunk..." Her neck snapped back up, her eyes desperate and she tensed from the top of her head to the tip of her toes, every nerve quivering against him, tears shimmering in her eyes. "I swear to you, Heero, I didn't mean for it to happen! But.... I we..." 

Slow realization dawned on him and he felt as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped over his head. He had left her sad, angry and wanting. He remembered her enthusiasm for him last night, her hands all over him, murmuring naughty things into his ears all the way back to their rooms. She had pulled off more of his clothes than he had hers before he pushed her away in his drunken confusion. And she had run...to Damion. Anger burned in his stomach, worming its way deep inside. He shook, trying to think, or not think about what she was saying. 

It took him a minute to realize she was talking to him. "Heero," she said urgently. The furious look he leveled on her might have knocked over a weaker woman. She swallowed at the shadowed rage in his eyes. "Heero, that came out wrong," she said firmly. "I didn't sleep with Damion or anything. God, do you think he would do that?" 

Heero breathed as if he had forgotten how. The nightmare images ebbed away. She wouldn't be lying, would she, after seeing his reaction? Not about this surely. His grip on her arms tightened a little and she inhaled sharply, but she did not budge or ask him to be gentler. No, the princess was trying to be brave, facing danger. He did not want her to be his enemy. 

"We kissed," Relena said, laying the words down empathetically, watching his face, still not moving. 

He closed his eyes, trying to control a new swelling of raging jealousy. 

_Damion...! _The thought came like a growl. 

"Heero," she said, fearfully now. Something in his face must have shaken her. "Don't look like that! We kissed, nothing more. It didn't mean anything. We were both drunk and sad and it just happened. We both knew it was wrong. Please, I'm telling you because I love you, because I don't want you to find out some other way! Heero, are you listening to me?" 

"You kissed him?" he snapped. His Relena, his! Faithful... He released her. 

"Heero," she said, grabbing his arm. "Please. All those things you were saying to me. What did you mean?" 

"Nothing!" he snapped. "Forget it!" It hurt to say that. 

"Heero, don't. The kiss didn't mean _anything_! It was just some stupid thing that happened. I couldn't bear to keep it from you, especially, especially..." Her eyes pleaded with him. He had the insane urge to seize her right then and there. He wanted to kiss her so bad he could taste her already. He wanted to conquer her, in the flower beds, on the bench. That dress looked like it could come off fairly easily. He wanted to... He wanted to... 

"Leave me alone!" he shouted at her, sweating, breathing hard. "I can't..." He put a hand to his face and tried to organize his thoughts. Who was he mad at? Relena, Damion, himself, all three? 

It was just a kiss. 

He couldn't make himself understand it. The stormy rage of his previous notion hadn't subsided, and he was jealous. Oh God, was he ever jealous. That's why he wanted her so bad right now. He wanted her forever. He wanted her to pine for him and just for him, to love him, to be his. He would take care of her. He loved her. She kissed Damion? 

"Heero, stop this!" she exclaimed. "I know I messed up. I'm trying to make it better. Please!" 

"What do you know?" he shouted at her. He never shouted at her. She was everything. She was all he had. "You don't know anything about me! You don't know what I want! You don't know why I am still here!" 

"I thought it was because you loved me!" she cried in retort. "I'm sorry for what happened, but you've been nothing but horrible to me since we got here. You don't want to feel guilty sleeping with me? How do I know the sex just wasn't good enough? Maybe I_ don't _know anything about you! How can I tell if you don't talk?" 

He felt as if slapped, and it only made him angrier. Was she accusing him of the very thing of which he had tried to be blameless? He did not kiss anyone else! He did not run to someone else for comfort! "If that's what you want to think, go ahead," he said said darkly, and dismissed her by turning away. He felt like he was breaking up inside, like the bridge was crumbling and there was no way to save it. He felt his brow contort, his eyes grow cold. 

There were tears in her voice now. "Heero, please. _Talk_ to me! I can't always guess, Heero. I love you. Show me you love me. Tell me why you do." 

So many reasons...but he couldn't pronounce a single one. He was too angry, too angry and too jealous. 

"Fine," she said to his back with something like a choke. "If you can't tell me what you want or how you feel, maybe there's nothing there. Maybe I should have listened to my brother." She sniffled. He suddenly found that he wanted to turn around, apologize and start over, but he couldn't. His pride wouldn't let him. 

That's when she shattered his world. "We're over, Heero. I can't do this anymore. If we can't resolve difficulties, there's just no use. I'm not an angel, Heero. I'm human too. I make mistakes. And so do you. But you have to pay for them. You have to pay." 

He heard her retreating footsteps, the muffled cries, and felt his knees weaken. He stood still for a long moment in silence, angry, unsettled, fighting the torrent of emotion rolling in his gut. Too much fear, too much anguish, too much love. He couldn't bear it. He didn't understand. 

All he wanted to do was make her his wife, and somehow he had lost her. 


	9. Heero's Retaliation

Temper the Soul 

Chapter 9 

by zapenstap 

  
  
  
  
  


The wine glittered a clear red as Damion poured it into a crystal goblet and handed it to Terese. She took it with both hands, her eyes sparkling beneath her wild black hair, barely tamed with curls today. It had only been a few hours since Audrey had left his office this morning, since the Council meeting had ended. He only had a few more hours before the official pronouncement of their engagement was officially made known to the public. 

Currently, Audrey was preparing and waiting for his summons. She would be a spotlight of attention tonight and for several weeks to come. Already he was missing her. It sounded insane even to himself, but he missed her the minute she left his office, looking for all the world like a dark-haired swan, graceful and lovely with just a hint of sorrow about her eyes and mouth. It was not the depressing sort of sorrow, but the kind borne of wisdom and inspired grace. Even through that sorrow she had smiled at him, light out of the darkness. He could spend all day staring at her. 

"Don't look so nervous," Terese suggested with a whimsical smile. "My god, if you're like this now, how are you going to be for the actual wedding?" 

Damion smiled at her over his shoulder and poured himself a glass of wine. "I'm not nervous," he said with ease. "I just wish Manny would get back." He took a sip of the wine, strong and dark the way he liked it. 

"How are other things?" Terese asked him. She was dressed in blue today, a floor length blue dress with a simple cut and crunched sleeves. Fetching she looked in it too. Manny would be pleased. Damion wondered abstractly just how serious Manny's relationship with Terese was, if it was going anywhere. It would be a damn shame to lose either of them if they ever broke up for real and working together just became too awkward. Well, it would be a damn shame to lose Terese anyway. Manny would never leave him unless he was forced. He blinked. God, would the Council want to reassign Manny when he was crowned? He hoped not. It would break his heart. 

"Other things are the way they have been for the past few weeks," Damion responded, trying not to think about all the things that had become so complicated so quickly. He missed the reassuring, if distant, presence of his father, and knew it was foolish to do so. He was Prince Regent now; he might as well make the best of it. "You know these kind of situations do not change overnight." 

Terese shook her head. "Gardiner still yammering for your head?" 

Damion shrugged. "I suppose so." It still did not make any sense. 

"It's not your fault the guy is native of Taravren." 

Damion did not reply. No, it was not his fault, but it was partly his responsibility. People were dying out there due to the increase in anarchist revolts and terrorism. The situation was growing too large for the Preventors to handle, too large for any International Policing agency. Gardiner's activities were increasing in senseless violence. Damion's name had been mentioned several times during demonstrations, or so his intel said. But he was not being attacked. He was merely a name being threatened, but for some reason it felt like he was being goaded and that made him nervous. He did not know this Able Gardiner, and the man's activities did not take place on Taravren soil. It was not his fault the man would seek him as a target simply because he grew up in Taravren, but he felt responsible, and it grated. 

There came a knock on the door. 

Before Damion could open his mouth the door opened and Julia entered the room. Her dress was a pale cream color today, bare over the shoulders, molded to her upper body and loose about her legs and hips. It was a modest dress, elegant, but the predatory look in her eye gave her a promiscuous appearance no matter what she wore. She turned slightly and pressed the door closed, glancing at him over her shoulder. Her hair was loose, curled in something like ringlets, shimmering gold in the soft yellow light of the room. Julia really was a stunningly beautiful woman with her creamy skin, high forehead and small, exact features. Her lips were coated in lip gloss, shimmering slightly pinker than they could possible be naturally, and her teeth flashed white as she widened her smile into a tempestuous grin. 

"Miss me, dear?" she asked coyly, turning from the shut door. 

"Always," Damion replied with a playful dryness. 

Terese watched Julia warily. It was not that they disliked each other, but something between them clashed. Perhaps it was Julia's flippant manner in bypassing responsibility, where to Terese, keeping the palace from falling apart was everything. Maybe it was Julia's reputation, the rumors of her blatant use of men and wanton sexual exploits. Maybe it was the way Julia used every ounce of her high and noble stance to get exactly what she wanted and Terese resented that sort of snobbery. Then again, perhaps it was just way the Julia and Manny got along so well, as Julia did with all men. Of course, in that department Julia was harmless; she had no more intentions toward Manny than she did Damion, but Terese might not think of that, or think of it _like_ that. Damion could also tell that Terese admired Julia, perhaps against her will. There was just something irresistible about her, her worldly confidence perhaps, and Julia was not a hateful or even an arrogant woman. She was very strong-willed, true, and her ambitions could not be tamed, but she was not out to hurt anyone. On the other side, Julia liked Terese, but she thought Damion's energetic and organized secretary "too nice," perhaps because Julia herself was hard as iron and slippery as oil. Julia had said questionable things about Relena too, that she was an "admirable, if ignorant girl," if he remembered correctly. Strangely, she seemed to like Audrey considerably. Damion wondered if he should worry about that. 

"What are you doing here, Lady Julia?" Terese asked politely. 

Julia smiled at her. "I came to see it," she said, and looked over at Damion expectantly. 

"We're still waiting for Manny," Damion told her, feeling nervous again at the reminder of the delay. 

Julia nodded slowly, looking again at Terese. "And how is Manny these days?" she asked. "I really have not seen enough him." 

"He's fine," Terese replied. 

Julia's lips twitched as if she knew a secret. "Well," she murmured with a voice like the ringing of bells, "I must say I _am_ surprised. He was a mischievous thing when we were all children together as I recall, always with his head in the clouds and some scheme or another in play. He could never quite remember what was going on, not with his own life anyway. He needs someone to take care of him and make sure he puts his shoes on the right feet." She darted a wickedly playful glance in Damion's direction. "He was always more concerned with his Master's affairs than his own, eh Damion?" 

Damion nodded admittedly. Manny was a rock in his life and Julia knew it. 

Strangely, Terese smiled then, relaxing visibly, and Julia returned her smile as if to say "see? Manny is like my litter brother. I am very fond him, nothing more, and I think you are good for him." Terese leaned back against the wall and took another swallow of wine, looking almost smug. 

A knock came at the door, almost startling him. 

"Speak of the devil," Julia murmured. 

"Come in, Manny," Damion said, trying to conceal the sudden anticipation that leaped in his gut. Manny entered, shutting the door softly with a wide grin. Damion surged forward to meet him, setting his wine down in passing. "Did you get it?" Damion asked, his eyes searching Manny for some evidence of his errand. 

"Of course," Manny said, pulling a small black box from his coat pocket. Drawn to the object, Damion forgot all about Terese and Manny and Julia. His thoughts gravitated toward Audrey and wiped his mind clean of every other thought. Somewhere in the distance, Manny continued, "You should have seen the bill, Damion. This thing costs..." 

"I know how much it costs," Damion said breathlessly, taking the box from Manny with hands that slightly shook. Manny grinned as he handed it to him and Damion opened it immediately. 

The diamond seemed to swallow the light in the room. It drew everything to it like a magnet, glittering with seemingly a hundred facets upon a slim band of gold, scrolled with a design like tiny roses in a vine garden. The diamond itself was ancient and classic, a marquis cut, surrounded by two smaller, but equally impressive round brillant cut diamonds on either side. The main rock was large and weighty, but not gaudy, glittering with a slight gray storminess beneath the shining white. Such a stone would light up her hand without overpowering it, drawing all eyes, and it was breathtakingly beautiful, though not as much as she. Taking a deep breath that almost sounded like a sigh, he closed the lid of the box, his stomach trembling a little. He had searched the world over for a ring, had searched everywhere, before he found this one. He didn't know if she would like it, but he thought so, and his mother favored it above the other choices. It was an engagement ring a queen could wear with pride whether she assumed the role of a queen or not. He wanted to see how it looked on her hand. He knew she would accept it, but he didn't know if she would like it. More than anything, he wanted her to like it. 

Julia touched his wrist and he jumped, startled. She smiled at him. "Let me see it, Damion," she asked, and he let her pry the box from his fingers, feeling light-headed and tired as if he had just run a race. With graceful fluidity, Julia lifted the lid of the box and peered down at the ring with searching, thoughtful eyes. She looked up and smiled at him. "She'll love it," she assured him. "You have absolutely nothing to worry about." 

Damion took the box back from her, still feeling winded, though he breathed a little easier with Julia's assessment. "Terese," he said quietly. "Would you tell her...would you...." 

"That you want to summon her now?" Terese finished for him, and nodded. "Of course I will. I imagine she's just as panicky as you are with all this waiting." 

_Audrey_, panicky? He doubted it. The woman had a composure an earthquake couldn't shake. 

"Yes," Damion told her. "Summon her." 

"I think I will go too," Julia said smoothly. "If it is permissible." 

Damion nodded. "If Terese does not mind." 

"Not a bit," Terese said, and seemed to mean it. She dimpled at him and winked at Manny, displaying the fiery, girlish part of her personality as she curtseyed and then strode straight out of the room before waiting for a response. Julia followed behind, her fingers interwoven behind her back as strolled through the door with a movement like a flickering flame. 

"What do you think of her, Damion?" Manny asked, his eyes following her out. 

"Julia?" Damion asked in surprise. "She's Julia." 

Manny laughed. "No, Terese." 

"Terese is a great girl, Manny. You know that." 

Manny nodded and then shrugged, pouring himself a glass of wine before throwing himself into a chair. "Yeah. I really like her. Two years we've been together, on and off, but I still really like her. That's never happened before. She makes me shiver and feel off-balance." 

Damion smiled at him, wishing he had as much time as Manny did to weigh his choices and his desires. If he had anything to say about it, he would say that Terese steadied Manny, but if he felt off-balance he supposed it was just as well. "I suppose all this marriage stuff has you thinking," he guessed. 

Manny shrugged. "I don't know. I'm too young to get married, if you'll pardon me, but I do like her a lot." He nodded thoughtfully to himself. "Maybe someday." 

Damion shook his head, swallowing down a bit more wine before setting the stuff aside. He'd really had too much wine last night; he didn't need to get started again now. Maybe he _was_ nervous. 

"I'm sorry, Damion," Manny said suddenly. "I didn't mean to get you thinking about it again." 

Damion shook his head. "It's all right, Manny. I have to think about it or be unprepared. We only have a few hours before everything is settled before the public..." he trailed off, turning the velvet-sheathed box over in his hands. A few hours before everything was settled, and then exactly seven months before the official ceremony that would make him King of Taravren and Audrey his wife and his Queen. The wedding and the crowning would happen on the same day, back to back. It was a lot to think about, too much in this day in age where such things went unnoticed by most the world, but these traditions were well observed in his country, by his people, especially by the older folk. Everything had to be perfect. He knew Audrey had agreed only to the obligation of first choice. She had promised to be good to him, not to love him, but all he could think about was how he hoped she liked the ring. Seven months of courtship. Seven months and he would marry this girl, and consummate the marriage, whether she loved him or not. It was a strange thing to think about. It didn't feel right. He didn't know whether to be excited, apologetic or terrified. He felt all three in continuing waves. Right now he just hoped she liked the ring. 

***** 

Duo kicked the door to his room closed behind him and marched off down the hall, swinging his arms. He and Hilde were going to go out and about town today. She'd been complaining lately that their "vacation" was not being optimized enough, so he decided he ought to oblige her and take her out on a fun little date. They'd only be here in Taravren for another day or so more since Damion's hectic weekend was over and things in Taravren seemed to be settling. Besides, Duo wanted to learn more about these anarchist/terrorist bombings and demonstrations taking place in the west. He wanted to contact Preventor Headquarters personally and ask Lady Une whether his services were going to be needed in the future. 

He'd heard a rumor that a mobilization was underway, that the retired countries throughout Europe were being asked to prepare volunteer soldiers to combat the sudden uprising in the west and restore peace to the law-abiding civilians. There'd even been rumors that the anarchy mobs were part of a self-sustained combat unit, retired soldiers from the war looking for a little booty and taking too much license with their freedom. People were being killed out there. It was starting to get bad. Standard policing procedures had been employed immediately, the Preventors among them, but these troublemakers were difficult to distinguish from law-abiding people and took to hiding in the rough, rocky country beyond the towns and cities. That's what he'd heard anyway. It was strange how things "far away" always seemed so unreal. He couldn't imagine that there was fighting, death and suffering out there still, simply because there was not a war, but people were still people, free to choose between good and evil. For that reason people were being driven from their homes and killed for no reason at all. These offenders were like brigands, or pirates, doing whatever they pleased. Their leader, this Abel Gardiner, spent all of his time making speeches against authority, government, and the futility of peace under rule. He was a confirmed atheist, materialist, and a believer in independence of the people. How well he controlled his followers wasn't really understood; not at all perhaps, but his influence was growing more powerful. Duo thought they might do well just to assassinate the guy and scatter his loyalists, but if they had already attempted that, they'd had no luck so far. 

As Duo was balancing these morbid thoughts with thoughts of Hilde, he caught site of Heero heading down the hall that crossed his own path. The ex-soldier moved with the force of a hurricane, hurling down through the corridor with reckless, barely controlled fury, his eyes flashing dangerously. 

"Heero!" Duo called, wondering what was the matter, but Heero didn't stop or turn around. 

Duo bolted after him, catching him halfway down the hall, but Heero still didn't slow down or even acknowledge his existence. Looking at his face as he practically ran beside him, Duo stared. Heero's face looked shattered, his expression like a broken piece of pottery. In his eyes rage blazed, lightning and thunder clashing in emotional turmoil. "Heero," Duo breathed quietly, a quiver of fear running thorough his spine at Heero's expression. "What happened? What's wrong?" He'd seen Heero like this only a time or two before, and there was no telling what he might do in this state, how he might act. If it got much worse, Heero's coldness would kick in and he would look like he felt nothing; just doing what he felt had to be done. Sometimes Duo wondered when he was the most dangerous. 

"Nothing," Heero replied shortly, his voice whipcracking in Duo's face. He was still striding down the hall, his legs eating up the tiles like there was no tomorrow. "I need to find Damion." 

Duo blinked. Damion? "Slow down, Heero. Is something wrong with Damion? He's really busy, you know. What do you want to see him for?" 

Heero didn't answer. 

Duo grabbed his arm, pulling his quasi-friend back a bit. "Seriously, Heero, what's going on?" 

Heero wrenched his arm away, his eyes flashing. "It's got nothing to do with you. This is between me and Damion." He took off again, running now, his boots hitting lightly against the tiles as he picked up speed. 

Muttering under his breath several choice names for Heero, none of them flattering, Duo bounded after him, catching him at the next corner. "Is this about Relena?" he asked, guessing randomly. Relena was one of the things that could throw Heero into these emotional spirals, and he'd noticed things had been slightly off with Relena and Heero lately. "God, Heero, you're not digging up all that old stuff with Damion and Relena, are you? I mean, one, that wasn't Damion's fault; it was yours, and two, it's _old _and the princess is your girl now. So what's the problem?" 

Heero's face grew darker, his eyes resembling black holes. 

Duo swallowed, running along beside him. "Heero? Heero, I was almost kidding. God, what are you going to do?!" 

"Back off!" Heero shouted suddenly, whirling to a sudden stop, catching his momentum by stepping back and turning widely. He flung an arm out, his voice shaking. "I told you to stay out of it! I meant it!" 

Duo stopped, relaxing as best as he could, amazed. "Heero," he said with a quaking laugh, "what happened? Come on. Damion's the nicest guy in the world. He wouldn't intentionally do anything to hurt either you or Relena. And he's having a rough time. Give the guy a break. Don't do anything stupid." 

Snarling, Heero pushed past him and continued running. "It's none of your business," he said darkly. "Go back to Hilde and show her how much you love her before she runs out on you for some other guy." 

What? Duo blinked, trying to process that. "Come on, now. Relena wouldn't leave you for Damion. What the hell are you talking about?" 

Heero didn't answer, but Duo followed him. What happened two years ago couldn't be allowed to happen again, not now. God, Damion was practically a king and this was _his_ home. They were _his_ guests. They were supposed to be his friends, helping him through a difficult time. If Heero did something stupid, they could all end up in prison... or worse. "Heero!" he shouted. "Wait, man. Don't go crazy. Listen to me!" 

But Heero had already passed through the corridor, hell-bound for Damion's private study. Duo caught up to him as he rounded the next corner, but despite his protests, Heero did not stop to listen or even slow down. Looking into his face again, Duo was shocked and disturbed to see how hurt and broken he looked, and how furiously wrathful. He desperately attempted to grab Heero's arm again, but was swatted away. Sighing, he settled into a jogging pace, wondering desperately how to head off whatever was about to go down. 

***** 

Damion waited nervously in his study, clutching the ring box in his hand, pacing up and down the room. Should he have it in his hand when she came in, or hidden somewhere? Should he send everyone else out and speak to her alone, kneel and ask her to marry him, or would that just be stupid in this situation? She didn't know why he had summoned her, but maybe she had guessed. Perhaps he should just give her the ring like a business engagement, since that was almost how she saw it. Should he say something about how he felt about her or would that just make her unnecessarily uncomfortable? 

"Calm down, Damion," Manny said soothingly as Damion wiped perspiration from his forehead with the back of his sleeve. "Terese was right. You're too tense. Try to relax." 

"I can't," Damion gasped, sitting heavily in one of the chairs. Two seconds later he surged to his feet again, pacing, eyeing the wine in the punch bowl speculatively. No. He didn't need another drink; he needed to remember how to breathe regularly and think clearly. His heart thudded in his chest like a jack hammer and his hands were shaking slightly. That would never do. Audrey would laugh at him; straight-backed as a pine tree, cool as the ocean, she would smile and laugh. Deliberately he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to ease his frigid nerves. 

He couldn't let himself think beyond the moment. He couldn't let himself consider whether or not he really loved her, since that didn't seem to matter, or how they were to live together. But he couldn't help it. Something in him wanted this, wanted it and didn't want it at the same time. It was foolish to believe in love at first sight. She had barely come under his attention for more than a few days, but already he was so curious about her, so desperate for her good favor. Maybe that wasn't love, but he couldn't stop thinking and wondering how it would be if it was, if it came to be. No, he couldn't think about that, emotionally or physically it would be a disservice to her. He would be good to her as she promised to be good to him; that's all he could afford to commit to right now, no matter what he felt he wanted. 

A knock came at the door, followed by Terese's clear voice requesting entry for Lady first choice, Audrey Veron. Damion stopped in his tracks and answered as cleanly as he could. The door opened, revealing first Terese, her smile an impish encouragement, and then Audrey, walking in on her heels with Julia just behind her. Julia wore a deceptively demure expression on her face as she quietly shut the door and leaned against it unobtrusively. But it was Audrey who caught and held his eye. 

Damion swallowed. Audrey still wore a white dress, but with a few more embellishments to formalize it into something between a dress for a dinner party and a formal gown. The material of the skirt was light and loose with wide pleats that glided over her hips and plunged to the floor in something like light waves. It was not fluffy or poofy like a formal gown and he could easily see the outlines of her legs when she moved, more like a simple spring dress. The top of the dress clove to her body, but the bust line was cut short and pushed up, showing just the top of her breasts in a style something like a bustier except that arched over her shoulders were modest, attractive cap-sleeves. Her hair hung loose still, but more crisply curled, the curled locks sticking to her face and draping just over the bare parts of her shoulders. 

He remembered her kiss in his office, the plush softness of her lips and the presence and touch of the body he had not been able to hold. She stood before him now calmly and expectantly, watching him with her head slightly tilted, her expression controlled. 

"You summoned me, my Lord?" she asked hesitantly. 

He jerked a little at her address. "Audrey," he said, and trailed off involuntarily, looking at the others standing about, awaiting his orders. Should he command them to leave? He needed at least one witness for the formal proposal, but if one, why not two or three? This wasn't supposed to be romantic, however his heart cried out against it. He ought to be alone with her, loving and honest and sincere... but not as Prince Regent. 

Deciding to just ignore them, he gallantly stepped forward and took Audrey's hand. The second he did he felt calmer, more relaxed. She watched him curiously, a light in her dark eyes. He got so lost staring into those eyes he forgot what he was doing, standing still in the room, holding her hand in his own like they were the only two people in the world. 

"Damion?" she asked a touch breathlessly, prompting him. 

He shook his head, snapping out of his trance, and flushed. "Audrey," he said, and withdrew the black velvet box with hands that only trembled a little. "Today's the day I formally ask you..." he swallowed. This was harder to do in real life. He felt an incredible urge to drop to knees and almost started to, forgetting himself and his station, when she grasped his wrist. 

"Don't," she said suddenly, her cheeks flushed. "I..." 

He locked his knees and took another breath as he looked into her face. The words came out slowly and steadily, spoken into her eyes. "Will you marry, me, Audrey Veron?" It did not sound like his own voice; he could barely even here the words he was trying so hard to read her thoughts in her eyes. 

"Yes," she replied without hesitation, and lowering her eyes from his face to his hands, she took the box he offered to her, the delicate tips of her fingers trailing across the skin if his hands. Lifting the box gently away, she opened it softly. He watched her expression, catching the slight parting of her mouth, the sudden jerk of her head. Beyond her head he caught Julia's eye as she smiled at him and nodded confidently. Swallowing, he looked back at Audrey and saw a small smile on her face. "I'll be glad to marry you, Damion," she said almost off-handedly, and a small laugh escaped her lips. "God, it's beautiful." 

He let go of a breath he hadn't know he was still holding. Glad to, she said, glad to marry him. What did she mean by that? Shaking a little, he gingerly took the box from her and plucked the ring from its velvet cushion. Manny appeared at his side in an instant, smiling as he took the empty box from Damion's hand. The ring glittered between Damion's thumb and forefinger as he lifted Audrey's left hand and slid the golden band on the appropriate finger. Her hand was already soft and delicate and cool to the touch, but it seemed to spring to life as the ring settled on her finger, a perfect fit. Of course, he had had it sized appropriately. The roses scrolled on the gold band were just barely visible, but the diamond sparkled like a star on her hand, like she held the key to the celestial heavens. She was so absorbed in staring at it she appeared to have forgotten him for a moment, but abruptly she lifted her head, flushing. Feeling braver, he stepped in before she could move or speak. His fingertips gently touched her waist as he kissed her softly, a modest, promise-sealing kiss, but she kissed him back, and--if he were to flatter himself--seemed slightly disappointed when he pulled away. 

Suddenly, they both became aware again of the other people in the room. Julia smiled a soft, secret smile as she leaned against the door, but nothing in her expression indicated anything she might have thought. Terese and Manny were huddled together, practically cuddling, equally sweet and encouraging smiles plastered on their faces. Damion could not keep a slight glare from his eye as he looked at them, but Manny only grinned and Terese laughed with a trill like a bird at his expression. 

He realized he was still holding Audrey's hand and released her. "You're my fiancé now," he said quietly to her alone. "You'll be requested to stay here for the courtship, if you don't mind." 

"No," she said. "I don't mind." 

He smiled at her and absent-mindedly brushed a clinging curl away from her pale cheek. "My mother will want to dote on you," he said a little more loudly. "She's been looking forward to it, and there are many gifts I am expected to give you." 

"Marrying a prince has its benefits," Terese said with a gushing, bright-eyed smile. "I've seen the design possibilities for your wedding dress, Miss Veron," Terese added. "It's worth a fortune by itself." 

Damion shushed her with a wave of his hand and a wry look in her direction. Terese winked. Audrey said nothing to this mention of gifts and wedding expenses. Her gaze seemed drawn still to the diamond on her finger, but every once in a while she cast a sideways look at Damion, her cheeks flushed and her mouth parted in something just short of a smile as she looked at him with considering wonder. 

Damion was about to lead her out of the room to somewhere we they could discuss a few details involved in the proceedings of tonight and maybe steal a few more kisses when the door suddenly crashed open, smacking against the inside wall with a resounding boom. 

Terese screamed in surprise, her arms flinging suddenly around Manny's neck. Julia gasped, sliding quickly out of the way, her eyes narrowing and hardening like shards of ice. Audrey grasped Damion's hand again and he pulled her unconsciously behind him, shielding her from whatever had burst into their space. 

It was Heero, semi-formally dressed as he did frequently now, but his eyes were a soldier's eyes, eyes that bored into Damion with malevolent fury. Damion jerked, fire kindling in his gut as his body suddenly registered the presence of danger. He could almost feel the scar on his side throbbing in remembrance of another time Heero had looked at him like that, and his muscles tensed in expectation. 

As if catching some signal, Audrey stepped back and away from him, moving against the wall, a blanket of self-composure falling over her face like a veil. She clutched her hands together, fingering the diamond on her left hand as she looked between him and Heero with a calculating and questioning glance. 

Damion trembled, realizing suddenly why Heero was here, why he looked like that. 

"Whoa, Heero!" Duo exclaimed, bursting in on Heero's right and grabbing him by the shoulder, pulling him back. "Calm down." 

Heero shrugged off his friend like he was swatting a fly. With a clenched jaw and eyes the suddenly seemed to have developed a liquid sheen, he said loudly and suddenly, "Why would you do that to me?" 

Damion closed his eyes. Relena. He remembered the kiss, gentle and soothing to them both, completely without any real desire or romantic intention. "It was an accident, Heero," he said quietly, hoping to God Heero could calm down before... 

"I don't care how drunk you were!" Heero shouted. "She's _my_ girl, Damion, _mine!_" It came out almost like a snarl, thundering into his ears. 

"I know," Damion replied as quickly and calmly as he could, shaking with the effort. "It was a mistake. I'm sorry. It didn't mean anything." 

"God _damn_ you!" Heero swore. Duo began talking again, excitedly and desperately trying to soothe his enraged comrade. Heero twitched like a madman, throwing his fists wildly about, trying to break away from Duo's grasping hold. 

"Heero, it was nothing," Damion reminded him with more urgency. " It was stupid. I didn't intend to hurt either of you. She's still your girl..." 

Breaking away from Duo, Heero strode toward him suddenly, jolted into action like a bullet from the barrel of a gun. Before anyone could react, his eyes blazed, he pitched forward and slugged a heavy fist into Damion's jaw. 

The world went black, darkness dropping over Damion's eyes as he reeled and fell backward, his face exploding with pain. He heard cries resound around him as he hit the floor heavily, wheezing for air. 

"We broke up!" he heard Heero's voice shout, seemingly ripped raggedly from his throat with more pain and tears than Damion had heard from Heero in a long time. 

As his vision cleared he could make out Manny leaning over him, his brown eyes wide with concern. It took a few more seconds before the buzzing in his head became intelligible sounds again. Turning his head slightly, he sought first and found Audrey, staring at him from the wall in shock, a hand to her throat. Groaning, he allowed Manny to help him sit up. 

Heero looked like the one with a smashed face. His features were contorted in pain and misery, his jaw was clenched too tightly. His eyes glistened. The gundam pilot stared at Damion for a moment and then turned on his heel, striding out of the room with heavy, angry footfalls. Duo remained behind, his hands falling limply to his sides as he watched Heero go. Julia was watching Heero too, her head cocked to one side as if she was considering something, her expression thoughtful. 

With Manny's help, Damion got slowly to his feet, his jaw still aching, his head still pounding. He ought to have been fighting furious, but for some reason he didn't feel anything at all. 

"Master Damion," Manny was calling to him. "Master Damion, do you want me to go after him? Do you want your guards..." 

"No," Damion replied softly, rubbing his jaw. "I... kissed Relena, the night of the party. It... well, I suppose there's no use trying to explain it now." 

He looked over at Audrey, feeling like his heart had plummeted to his feet. Why did he have to be so honest? She still stood against the wall, her elbows bent as she rotated his ring on the finger of her left hand. Her face was as flat as a board, her expression blank as a sheet as she looked at him. 

Under that gaze, Damion wanted to kill himself... and maybe Heero too.   


* * *

  
Coming up next chapter... hm. Well, I suppose it all depends on whether or not readers review... ^_~ This took like TWO days to write!! For the love of God, PLEASE REVIEW! 


	10. A Tempting Predator

I uploaded this on FF.net, but I couldn't find it so I'm not sure it made it on the list. Also, that "donut" instead of "don't" was a format-conversion problem and it's been fixed now (I think).   


  


Temper the Soul 

Chapter 10 

by zapenstap 

  
  
  
  
  


Relena closed the suitcase on her bed and scrubbed the back of her hand across her cheeks. She'd been crying all afternoon, but now there was just a quiet ache left in her breast. To distract herself, she'd called home and asked Noin to bump up her meetings with the Colony delegates for tomorrow. If she wasn't kept busy, she feared her bones would turn into jelly and she'd melt into a quivering lump of tears. 

Stiffening her knees, she grimly locked her suitcase and lifted it from the bed. Glancing at herself in the mirror, she grabbed her purse and left the rooms she shared with Heero...the rooms she no longer shared with Heero. _Stop thinking about him, Relena, _she berated herself as she stood a moment longer on the threshold. It was almost like a little house. Almost._ No more._

She should say good-bye to Damion, she really should, but she did not think she could bear to remain another minute longer than she had to, for fear of running into Heero. If she saw him now she would just break down again. He made her feel weak and hollow in her bones, made her feel out of time and place with reality. Her life with him was one gigantic detour. When he refused to publicly claim her, what else could it be? No, it was time to go home, sort things out and put their relationship a rest. Maybe someday he would be ready, but.... could she really afford to wait for him? 

Sniffling, trying not to remember how safe and warm she felt in his arms, she strode down the hall and out into the lobby. Several of the servants watched her curiously as she passed. 

Quatre caught her in the hall, surprising her when he grasped at her coat sleeve. "Relena," he said kindly, placing a hand on her shoulder to halt her. "What's going on? Is there an emergency somewhere?" 

All dressed for travel, Relena just looked at him. Quatre has been in and out of the palace since that first day, staying in a hotel somewhere in the city, attending to his own affairs, every once and awhile paying herself or Duo or Damion a visit, but she did not think he had planned to come to the palace this morning. 

"What are you doing here, Quatre?" she asked, trying to manage a smile, but she knew her face only looked contorted. 

"I don't know, actually," he said. "I was thinking about you guys and I thought I would come down and see Heero since he's been kind of scarce lately. But now that I'm here, I think maybe you're the one who could use a friend. What's wrong? Did something happen?" 

Relena set her suitcase down, suddenly exhausted. "Heero and I broke up," she said with a thick, muted voice. 

Quatre's baby blue eyes widened, making him look more child-like than he usually did. "But why?" he asked in stunned surprise. "You're great together!" 

Relena managed a weak smile for him, lifting her suitcase again. "It just didn't work out, Quatre," she said apologetically through sudden tears. "It just wasn't going anywhere. I..." she blinked rapidly, dispelling the tears from her eyes. "I can't wait for him forever, Quatre." She flushed. "He doesn't seem to be interested in much more than my body lately, and when that interest failed..." she choked, remembering the way he had held her so tenderly in the garden, how he had looked into her eyes with such incredible urgency. What had he been trying to say? "I don't know," she said, shaking her head to clear away the imaged. "I don't understand what he wants from me. I just..." 

Quatre's eyes softened with understanding as she turned her face away. "It's okay, Miss Relena," he said sympathetically. "If it's meant to be, it will work out." 

She smiled at him once more over her shoulder and hoisted her suitcase. "I suppose so," she said quietly. Perhaps it was just not meant to be then. The princess and the soldier... was everything she believed just an unrealistic ideal? "Thank you for listening anyway." 

She hurried past him, aware of the fresh sprout of tears welling up in her eyes. Today she would go home and surround herself with the comfort of friends and family and the satisfaction of her work, praying that some day God would be good to her and she would find a love for someone that would last. Though how that was to materialize in anything other than the soldier she had come to love with every fiber in her body she did not understand. She loved Heero so much it hurt. Even now her stomach was all twisted up into knots thinking about him. He was...Heero. He would always be her Heero. She'd almost rather be alone than start over while he still breathed somewhere in the world. Why couldn't he just...? But she knew why, and she understood in a way, but it wasn't enough. It wasn't fair to just accept it forever and love him until she bled her heart out. All the sorrow, the confusion, the insecurity, the desperation, the willpower of Heero Yuy were so ingrained in her that she knew she could never turn away, but she couldn't live in torment any longer, living for him. Something had to change...unless this was good-bye forever. Maybe it was even better that way. 

"Good-bye, Heero," she said to the empty air, and headed to the airport where a private jet was waiting to take her home.   
  
  


***** 

Damion's jaw still ached, but he hardly noticed it now. Duo, Terese and Manny were staring at him and Audrey in breathless, agonizing silence. Julia just appeared to be thinking. The ring on Audrey's finger still caught the light, but she had stopped twisting it. 

Audrey's eyes were brown, dark and luminous, shining like hard glass. She was looking straight at him, her face blank, without accusation or anger or worry, nothing. It was like a void had formed behind her eyes and he could read nothing of her feelings. To him she looked cold, accepting, resolved. He would rather have her furious, hurt, anything but this. She looked at him as if to say what he had done was nothing more than she had expected. Remembering her father, he never felt so low in his entire life. 

"Please leave us," Damion said to the others, looking only briefly at Manny to communicate the urgency of his request. 

Manny's eyes were filled with concern, but he must have caught whatever Damion was feeling, and nodding, pulled Terese away by the elbow. Julia slipped out of the room as if she had never been there and Duo did not wait around either. When the door closed behind them all, it was if the gate of a vault has slammed shut. The stifling silence in the wake of it set his nerves on edge. His stomach felt like lead. 

She was still looking at him, even now expecting nothing. He felt that if he didn't say something soon she would simply turn and walk out as if it didn't matter at all. 

"Audrey," he forced himself to plead. "Please don't look like that." 

She turned her head slightly, dark curls brushing against pale cheeks, and he was reminded of a snowy owl, silent and staring like a statue for a long time until its sudden movement reminded you it was alive. 

"Audrey," he said again, and tried to say more. 

"Don't," she said curtly, waving a hand to cut him off. "I don't care." 

He took a step toward her, mortified. The floor seemed to be sinking beneath his feet. He wanted things to be right between them. He regretted every girl he had ever kissed at that moment, if only she would not look like that. 

"You should care," he said urgently, moving a little closer until he could see into her eyes. She looked back at him, tilting her head proudly, but he could see in her eyes that there really was no resentment, just resignation. 

"I don't love you," she said coolly. She was like the ocean in the tropics, rhythmic, salty and serene. She was not cold or distant, merely plain, honest. "Why would I care if you kissed someone else?" 

The turmoil of emotions in his gut made him almost feel sick, but he knew she was not trying to hurt him. It hurt anyway. "Audrey," he said a little more roughly than he wanted. Inside, he shook, not with anger, but with desperation, with passionate urgency. He wanted to touch her, but refrained. "I'm sorry. I never intended it to happen. We were both drunk and we were both lonely and depressed… It just happened. It was bad timing, bad in any case, but it didn't mean anything." 

"I know," she said more warmly and more forcefully. She smiled at him, a small, sad smile. "I understand, Damion. I'm just trying to tell you that it doesn't hurt me. I understand." 

It hurt him. Would it be horrible to say that he wished it did hurt her? Was it fair of him, to desire her to love him, at least enough to be jealous when he made a mistake? 

"You're my fiancé," he said quietly, and took her left hand in both of his, caressing the soft skin of her knuckles. She let him, straight-backed and stiff, staring still into his face. He could not wrench his gaze away from those eyes even if he had wanted to. "I feel…" 

"I _know_," she said again, and even in that moment of confession she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. But her words, though full of compassion and comprehension, came almost like blows. "I told you I understand. It was a mistake. It won't happen again. You're always honest, Damion. This isn't an issue of trust. I _get_ it." 

He shook his head. Was it possible he thought she was being too practical, too forgiving? "No, it _won't_ happen again," he said through his teeth, clutching her curled fingers more tightly. "But, Audrey," he said forcefully, "it's not okay. It was a stupid, drunk thing to do which will be forgotten in my mind, but listen to me, Audrey…" she was staring into his eyes now, her mouth slightly parted in astonishment at his forcefulness. He wanted to kiss that mouth. He would, if he thought it would help, but he knew it wouldn't. Instead he needed to make things clear. He needed to explain the situation to both of them, though it hurt to admit it. "You say you understand that it didn't mean anything. I believe you. I also understand. I understand that you don't love me and think you never will…" 

"Damion," she said with such sadness, but he could see in her eyes that he had only spoken the truth in her mind. 

"I won't say I don't care," he continued a little harshly, and his whole body stiffened with the effort to remain calm. "I think I may love you, but whether I do or not, I promise I will be good to you as you have promised to be good to me, even if you don't keep that promise." 

"I will keep it," she said with quiet resolve, almost more energetically than he had expected. 

He squeezed her hand. He was shaking so badly. "I know," he said. It wasn't what he wanted, but all he really had when it came down to it was the truth. "Whatever happens," he continued with passionate sincerity, "whether my love for you grows or fades, I promise I will take care of you in every way a man can take care of a woman. But I don't want to control you, Audrey, and I don't want to force you to feel anything you don't feel. I'm sorry this is so hard and so strange for both of us, but when I marry you I will keep my vows and I will be good to you. I will never intentionally do anything to hurt you. Audrey…" he closed his eyes, feeling for the first time how impossible this really was. She did not love him, and he could not expect her to. "You should expect me to do all of those things whether I love you or not, whether you love me or not. Vows are vows, however feelings change." 

"Thank you," she said with feeling, and he opened his eyes. Her eyes were moist, he realized, and warm. "I didn't mean to hurt you just now. I see that I did. I'm sorry. Please forgive me." 

"I do," he said quietly. "If…" 

She smiled at him and drew close, resting her forehead on his shoulder. Carefully, he gently put his other hand around her waist. She did not stir or pull away, and he tried hard to keep from sighing his relief. She was soft to the touch, pleasantly warm and real. 

"Thank you for understanding," she said, pulling away just enough to speak to him. "I know what happened that night happened partially because of the way I reacted when…" she looked down and trailed off, flushing. "I've told you that I'm sorry about that too. But believe me, Damion, I am not upset with you now. These things happen. People make mistakes when they are lonely and confused. I can't be angry. But the truth is that I do not love you. I do not know if I can ever love you the way you want, to have that amorous passion young people are supposed to have. I saw it in that other boy just now, what he was feeling for that girl and the anger he had for what you did. I do not know if I could ever have as strong a reaction as that, if I will ever want to possess you as thoroughly as that, want you like that." She looked away and stepped back, out of his grip, a blush suffusing her pale cheeks. He felt heat rising his own face, remembering how nice she felt so close. Embarrassed, she hurried on, forcing her arms to her sides as she tried to meet his eyes. "The past is in the past. I will be a good wife to you. That's all I can promise." 

"Okay," he said, accepting her words at the value with which they were spoken, though his heart cried out in plaintive protest. He was shaking inside. He wanted to cry or beat on things. That, or grab this girl and kiss her and touch her until she yielded to him. Unwanted images cascaded through his mind and he flushed, taking several breaths to calm himself. It was strange. He desired her suddenly, but not at all to satisfy himself. He wasn't sure what it was, and he wasn't sure if he was even ashamed of it. "Then I suppose I will see you in a few hours for the ceremony," he said quietly. "Until then, if you want to meet with my mother…" 

"I do," she said. 

He nodded and brought her hand to his to kiss. "I will show you the way," he said, and she quietly took his arm, watching him with those dark eyes, thoughtful now, tinged with sadness and respect. Well, at least she was no longer cold. And she did not despise him.   


***** 

Duo found himself walking down the hallway and talking to Julia. He'd never met a woman like her before, lusciously beautiful, every smile and glance a teasing invitation to something mysterious and pleasurable. Even with those looks, which almost seemed unconscious, she did not appear to be interested in him, which was good, because he was _perfectly_ happy with Hilde! Still, she has quite the face and body. He was curious if the rumors about her were true, that she was free with her favors when it came to men she considered profitable. Still, she seemed to be the quiet, reflective type, taking information in by silent observation or clever manipulation and processing it for her own benefit. He would probably annoy her the minute he opened his mouth. Why was she following him? 

"Does your friend always have that short of a temper?" she asked suddenly, quickening her pace until she stood just beside him. 

"Uh, not really," he fumbled. "Only when he thinks he's losing. He always succeeds, you see, and he hates it when he fails or loses control. And he's always been a head case when it comes to Relena." 

"A strange pair," she murmured. 

"They're both nuts," Duo laughed, crossing his arms. "Some people think they're weird together, but they give off the same kind of vibes to me. They're both hard to get to know, though Relena's openly nicer. They both have all these walls and inhibitions, but they're crazy about each other. You can see it when they're together, even if they're not speaking or doing anything." 

"So why did they break up?" she asked in a cool, measured tone. 

"I don't know," Duo replied truthfully, scratching his head. "Sometimes Heero gets all twitchy and starts doubting the validity of their relationship. He's had kind of a hard life and her brother has been disapproving lately, but more than anything I think Heero's just afraid of getting too close. They're so secretive about their sex life too. It's almost like they don't want anyone to know. Besides, she's a celebrity and he's just a soldier. I guess that's a lot of pressure sometimes." 

He was talking too much, he realized. Heero wouldn't appreciate him spreading details about his relationship with Relena. Abashed, he bit his tongue. 

Julia didn't say anything, though. 

"Do you think Damion will be okay?" Duo asked her instead. He was surprised how controlled Heero's punch had been. He had feared much worse. "And Audrey? What were all of you doing in there anyway?" 

Julia waved a dismissive hand. "Damion can take care of his own affairs. At this point it doesn't matter anyway. They have to marry each other no matter _what_ Damion does. But, of course, Damion is a good kid." She smiled fondly. "He'll work things out." 

Duo shrugged, deciding not to worry about it if Julia wasn't going to. 

As they came out into the lower plaza of the palace, Duo caught sight of Heero, standing as if lost, his arms at his sides, staring off into nothing. Quatre was by his side, seeming to have detained him, and was talking is quick, soothing tones. Duo grinned. He hadn't heard much from Quatre lately. The guy had been traipsing all over town and beyond since that first day. 

Heero looked like he always did, tight-lipped and distance, not looking at anybody. He didn't even appear to really understand what Quatre was saying. His eyes were shadowed, hurt and nothing on his face indicated that he was listening. 

"What's going on?" Duo asked, sauntering over to them. Should he just pretend that that scene in Damion's study hadn't happened, like they were just a bunch of old comrades gathering together to ease the tension? Or was Heero willing to listen to advice now? 

"She's gone," Heero said when he came over. 

Apparently Heero's thoughts were still quite focused on Relena. "What do you mean?" Duo asked, blinking. 

"She packed up her stuff and went back to Cinq," he said without much tone. 

Duo stared in astonishment. She just left? 

Quatre's big blue eyes shimmered with sympathy. "I know she cares about you, Heero." 

Heero looked like he wanted to sit down, but there was nothing around. Instead he just stiffened, the muscles in his face tensing as he continued staring off into space. "I can't believe she's gone," he said quietly, looking away from them, his eyebrows drawn low. 

"Heero…" Duo began. 

"I can't believe it," Heero repeated with that same emptiness, shaking his head. Without further comment he turned from them and walked away, wandering out of the lobby with measured paces, though seemingly without destination. 

Duo shared a look with Quatre. 

"I hate seeing him so upset," Quatre said with a heavy, shoulder-heaving sigh. "And I hate being the bearer of bad news. I wish they could work it out." 

Duo sighed, resigned. "Yeah. Me too. They more or less deserve each other." 

It was then that he noticed that Julia had disappeared. 

***** 

Heero entered the first empty room he came to and sat heavily in an ornately carved chair. All his rage and fear was gone. It drained out of him the second his fist had connected with Damion's face and all he felt now was sluggish and absurd. 

How had he missed her? She had fled from him like he was a disease. She must have _run_ to their rooms to pack her things. She must have called Noin to have a plane sent before he even met her in the gardens. That meant she knew they would break up. She had decided it before he went to find her! That meeting had been his last chance then, in her mind. She had poured her heart out to him. She had touched him and cried for forgiveness and he had just… He let his head sink into his hands, closing his eyes. 

Was he just supposed to have excused her for kissing Damion simply because she cried? He would have, though, he knew. He would have if he had not decided that moment to ask her to marry him. If it was just to mend their relationship he would have been mad for a minute, but then he would have forgiven her. But to ask her to marry him after such a confession, he just couldn't do it. Bad timing. All of his failures were a result of bad timing. 

And now she was gone, back to her brother and back to her career, probably determined to forget about him. And he was here, thinking about her. She would probably marry someone else, some haughty politician or humanitarian that would suit her interests; not the poor soldier whose soul she had saved. 

It was the sex too, he knew. It made him uncomfortable, loving her and then feeling like he was using her, even if he wasn't, not really. It made her position with her brother and her associates, her position as a model to the world, complicated. Even so, he still wanted her. And he definitely didn't want anyone else to have her. 

The door creaked open and he lifted his head, wiping tears away from his eyes. He did not remember crying. 

"Julia," he said in surprise, remaining where he was, though he straightened some. 

She nodded at him over her shoulder and shut the door heavily. And locked it. 

"How are you, Heero?" she purred. 

"What do you want?" 

Smiling, she turned, brushing golden curls from her neck and shoulders. As she paced toward him with a walk like a predatory cat, he swallowed, feeling suddenly trapped and suffocated. The way she was looking at him… the room felt very hot. 

"You broke up with your girlfriend?" she asked, standing in front of his knees. 

Alarmed, he tried to lean back but there was nowhere to go. 

"Or she broke up with you?" she corrected herself, one slim eyebrow rising. 

"Why are you here?" he demanded hoarsely. What was she doing, trapping him in his chair, towering above him? He would have to clamber over the armrests or physically move her to escape. She didn't look dangerous, of course, small and feminine as she was, just… predatory. Her eyes flashed like a tiger's, a glint like gold in her blue eyes. 

Annoyed, he reached up to grasp her arms and move her, but suddenly found her arms snaked around his neck. Startled, he let go, hands flailing. Before he could breathe she had straddled him in the chair with bent knees, climbing onto his lap and wrapping her slender smooth arms around his neck. His breathing quickened and his heart raced as his body reacted to her position. Staring into her face, he noticed that she had a sultry mouth and full lips begging to be kissed. Her blue eyes seemed to swallow him into their depths, a bright, oceanic blue, tempting him, baiting him. The pale, creamy skin of her face and neck were too close to his face, her blonde, crisply curls clinging to his fingers as he touched it. 

He sat as if frozen, staring into her face as she breathed warm sensuous air into his face. Pressed up against him, he could feel her thighs around his legs, gripping him steadily through the full skirt of her dress. Her cool, delicate fingers traced the contours of his neck and he jumped, jerking back suddenly. 

Relena loved to touch his neck like that. With that thought, he lost focus. Julia's face blurred and he could no longer even sense her. His memory was overwhelmed by images of Relena. He saw her walking beside him, talking, lying on her couch, reading, smiling at him from her desk. He would push her into empty corners and kiss her until she begged for breath. His hands would wrap around her waist, tangle in her hair, cup her face… Oh God, he missed her. God, he loved her. 

Abruptly, Julia laughed a crisp, hearty laugh that brought him out of memory and back to Taravren in a heartbeat. In three seconds she was off of him and standing some distance away, a coolly composed lady of control, stature and beauty, smiling at him with a friendly twinkle in her eye. He could only stare at her in astonishment, flushing in spite of himself. 

"You are not a straying man, it seems," she said. 

He stared at her, completely without words with which to speak. 

She crossed her arms, her eyes twinkling. "I mean, you certainly are not looking for sex." 

He flushed. 

She chuckled again. "What are you still doing here, if your girl has gone home?" 

"I…" he gasped, unsure where to go with that. 

"You love her," she murmured with confidence. "Don't you?" 

"Yes," he said, closing his eyes, still unable to shake the images of Relena. He felt he had to answer such direct questions. "I love her." 

"She kissed another man, you know." 

She had kissed another man. It was said so plainly. He imagined Relena's kiss with Damion for the hundredth time, down to the very details. It made him jealous, possessive and angry… But, he loved her. 

Suddenly he realized how stupid this was. Another woman had just straddled his lap. If she had kissed him he probably would have kissed her back, before he had time to think, and he was not drunk. Surging out of the chair, he stumbled across the room toward the door, hardly thinking of Julia. He remembered what that pastor in that Church had told him about marriage, about his fears and his desires. She may be a princess, a politician, but she loved him, understood him, and he wanted to take care of her. He knew that in reality she would never abandon him; he was just afraid. Relena wasn't gone. She had gone home, true, but that would not stop him. He still wanted to marry her. He would _make_ her hear him out. 

"You're just a soldier," Julia reminded him coolly as he passed her. "What would she want with you?" 

He turned on her, a flash fire of determination in his heart, and angry at her for flinging his own inhibition in his face. "Relena can make her own decisions," he said. "She's braver than most soldiers. She risks her life to live, not die, and she loves me." He lowered his eyes. "I love her." 

"You can't look me in the eye and say that?" Julia said scornfully. 

He raised his head and looked her in the eye. "I love her," he repeated. "And she loves me. I want to marry her." 

She smiled at him. "Then what are you still doing here with me?" 

Heero knew it was a game and that she was playing him, but he didn't care; whatever she was doing seemed to be helping. Nodding, he unlocked the door and strode out into the hallway, not looking back. Julia's light, whimsical laugh followed him out. 

When Heero reemerged in the lobby, Quatre and Duo had been joined by Manny and Terese. Speaking together in quiet whispers, they did not see him at first. When they finally did notice him, Duo let out a cry. 

"Whoa! Heero, what the hell is the matter now?" 

Was there a glint in his eye? Did he look angry? "Nothing," he said, trying to sound non-aggressive, and turned to Damion's servant abruptly. "Tell Damion I'm sorry I lost my temper." Manny blinked in surprise, but Heero knew that Damion would believe anything relayed through Manny, and there was something to be said, though he hadn't the time to convey it personally. "Tell him everything is forgiven and forgotten by me and that I hope he has a happy marriage with Audrey." 

"…Wha…?" Duo blinked. Even Quatre looked baffled. 

"Sure," Manny replied in puzzlement. 

Heero smiled, feeling like a weight had been lifted off his chest and he could say anything he thought and felt without feeling awkward and self-conscious at all. "Tell him he's a really good guy and I consider him a friend. I hope there's no hard feelings." He'd never admitted to himself that Damion was a friend before. He barely considered Duo and Quatre friends. 

"All right. I will," Manny said slowly. Terese, hanging on Manny's arm, was smiling at Heero. 

Heero nodded and took a deep breath, gathered his control and motivation and continued on his way. 

"Heero, where are you going?" Duo asked. "Why this change in attitude?" 

"I'm going to the Cinq Kingdom," he said, brushing past them. Quatre and Duo both followed him, flanking him on either side. "I've got to talk to Relena," he continued with a low growl. "It's not going to end like this." 

He didn't tell them about marrying her, and wouldn't until he could talk to her first. He was resolute, though. Nothing she said or did could dissuade him from telling her what he wanted. Well, he ought to buy her a ring first, but he would do that after he apologized and won her back. There was plenty of time. Nothing could stop him now. 

"Uh, Heero," Quatre said suddenly, smiling at him with a worried, child-like smile. 

"What?" Heero demanded gruffly as he walked. 

Duo and Quatre exchanged a glance. "We've been talking about it and if Relena's gone back to Cinq and you want her back..." Quatre began. 

Heero glared at him. "Just spit it out, Quatre. What?" He hated inefficient delays. 

"You're going to have to fight Zechs for her," Duo finished grimly. 

Heero stopped in his tracks. The world lurched forward and back. 

"Not physically," Duo clarified, crossing his arms. "But you know how he's disapproved of the two of you lately, and well, now that you've upset her and they're on the same page…" 

They were right. Relena would go to Milliardo now for comfort and protection. He was jealous of that too, but the implications were more compromising. Everything had to come out into the open. He would have to deal with Zechs as well as Relena if he really wanted to be in her life. 

"Oh hell," he said crossly to no one in particular, but he wasn't going to be stopped 

***** 

By some miracle of God, Damion's jaw did not swell up obviously or turn purple. At least, it hadn't by the time he was supposed to make his debut with Audrey on the balcony. The palace began to buzz with activity at about six o'clock. By seven it was organized chaos. Terese's voice could be heard in every corridor issuing orders as she leapt and dashed about in a hectic dance that would somehow arrange everything to a state of perfection of which even God would be proud. Despite the perspiration on her forehead and the shrieks that admitted from her throat, she smiled and laughed and glowed like she was having the time of her life. Manny was just as busy, helping Damion prepare and bolting at every opportunity to finish some task Terese had passed along to him in the madness. Damion did his best not to bite down too hard on his jaw and practiced his speech in his head, letting the words run through his brain in a continuous flow. 

They were all last minute preparations. He had about five minutes before he had to step out in front of several thousand people and announce the date of his wedding day and coronation and present Audrey as his bride-to-be. 

He currently stood dressed in his formal wear from head to toe, assisted by several attendants as he waited for Terese to tell him when the crowd was ready for his appearance. Audrey stood at his side, coolly composed, her hand resting lightly on his wrist. Everyone had been talking to her and about her since they emerged from his mother's apartments with his ring on her hand. His mother had been pleased with her, and Audrey had shown his mother a warm, happy and considerate aspect of her personality. One day, he hoped she would feel that and more for him, but things were just too complicated right now. 

In the interval between his proposal and this announcement, Manny had informed him that Relena had left the Cinq Kingdom unexpectedly and that Heero, Duo, Hilde and Quatre had all followed her. Well, Heero mostly. The others had decided to travel with him to Cinq, but frome there they were destined to split and return to their own affairs. The news surprised him, but not overly. If Relena left, he knew the others would too, but it also meant that he was unexpectedly alone now with his own people in Taravren. Manny would always be there to support him, of course, and Terese too, but it was a strange feeling after being surrounded by friends for so many days. Julia would be lurking about also, and he could count on her to support him, especially with the Council Lords and political issues, but she had not the sort of sympathetic soul Relena did. Well, with the others gone he supposed he would have more time to spend with Audrey, take care of his mother, and attend to his duties a Prince Regent, especially in regard to this Gardiner crisis. 

Manny also said that Heero had apologized before he left and called Damion his friend. Damion almost laughed, but didn't. Only someone like Heero would call someone a friend after a fight. Maybe Damion had met some sort of standard, but if so, he had no idea what. He had, after all, fallen flat on his back and did not retaliate. Even so, he returned to gesture and was simply glad the whole thing was behind them. 

"Ready?" he asked Audrey. 

She smiled at him behind her cool exterior, nodding. She looked like a queen, especially in the gown she wore, and it eased him to see her adapting so easily to that role, but it was not enough for his romantic heart. She was not a part of him right now. They were not functioning as a unit, but as too independent people in a compromise. He wished for more, he would have begged for it, but as it was he took a deep breath, smiled back at her and prepared to step out in front of the ten thousand people that would gather behind the gates to gawk at her and hear him speak. 

Seven months before the wedding march would play, before a crown would be placed on his head. 

"Be easy, Damion," she said. "The people love you. Everything will be fine." 

Such assurance was not necessarily comforting, but he nodded and refused to think how much he wanted to kiss her for luck. 

When Terese told him it was time, he led her out on the balcony, clearing his mind of everything else. It would be so much easier if he was not in love with her. 

* * *

  
  
  


Kind of feels like an ending, doesn't it? Well, it's NOT! There's lots of action and drama ahead. The best parts are still to come. You all want to see what happens with Relena and Heero right? Actually, nothing's resolved with any of the characters. It's just not a cliffhanger like usual. Don't let that stop you from reviewing! I worked very very hard to get this out in a week and I really need to know it was worth it. So please review, okay? And then come back next chapter, yes? Am I whining too much? PLEASE REVIEW!!! 


	11. Heero contronts Zechs

Ahem. This is a complete revision. It's the same idea, but I changed A LOT in the Relena and Heero scenes. I was unhappy with the original and the nice people who reviewed confirmed my suspicions. Please review again. It would help me a lot. Thx. 

Temper the Soul 

Chapter 11 

by Zapenstap

  
  


Relena paced like a cat, rubbing her hands and face periodically to rid her body of the energy that welled up as a result of her chaotic emotions. She was both cold and hot in turns, the fever in her head and the numbness in her hands making her feel like some sort of disconnected spirit. She was angry too, angry and heartbroken and self-pitying. She hated it. 

Her brother watched her impassively, ornately dressed in the attire of Cinq royalty, his face expressionless. Noin sat beside him, silent in this argument between family. Relena could feel Zech's eyes on her, those weighing, calculating eyes, watching her, wondering about her. She could not look at him for more than a few minutes without feeling agitated. Even when she considered his point in as unbiased a light as she could manage, the memory of Heero's eyes and arms and hot kisses invaded her brain until she could no longer think. 

"I do not know what you expected," her brother said with a slight shake of his head. 

"I don't want to talk about it anymore," Relena snapped at him. "You're supposed to support me." 

"I do," he growled gruffly. "But I'm not going to coddle you, or pity you. Honestly, what did you expect to come of this?" 

What did she expect? What did she _expect_? Had she expected anything at all except the feeling of Heero's arms about her, holding her in his close, comfortable embrace as long as he would remain by her? Did she believe it would be forever? Had she wanted to hear anything except what he whispered in her ears when he kissed her hair and buried his face in her neck? She knew his eyes so well, those lovely dark eyes that held her and brought her into him. 

This was driving her mad. 

He did love her, didn't he? All those emotions, all those touches and whispers and caresses, surely they weren't just lust, desire with perhaps the rationalization of love. They had conversations, didn't they? They intellectually stimulated each other. They emotionally supported each other. When they made love he tried to please her too, not just himself, with variable (but acceptable) success. He cared about her, about her opinions and feelings, how she was treated, how her day went. He said he loved her and she believed him. Why shouldn't she?   But what if he really didn't?

So what did she expect? How important was expectation anyway? And what right did her brother have to comment on it? 

Zechs was cold and deaf to her distress. 

She had come expecting succor and she had gotten it after a fashion, but Zechs seemed more angry than sympathetic. She had explained that she had left Heero because he wouldn't touch her and wouldn't talk to her, and Zechs seemed to be implying that this was what he had suspected all along. He was making Heero out to be some sort of…user, and herself as a blind fool.   Of course, Zechs was always overly concerned with her reputation and virtues. So far all they had talked about was how she had let herself and her family down by carrying on a secret sex life with Heero, how she had disobeyed God and her Christian principals by not expecting more for herself, how she had become weak to let a man use her for two years without any kind of real commitment. It was infuriating and disheartening to listen to. She felt sick to her stomach, but her emotions were so chaotic she couldn't come up with any replies that did her defense a decent stroke. 

Zechs didn't even really know her that well, did he? Not as well as Heero surely. But she could not run to Heero now. No, it was her duty to face her family and stick up for herself because she knew she was blameless. It had been coming for awhile. 

"Well?" he demanded. 

"What did _you_ expect, Milliardo?" she shot back. "That I would remain a virgin until I one day married the son of an aristocratic gentleman from a politically influential family? How old a virgin would I be? Am I to give up my career and be just a housewife and mother too?" 

"There's certainly nothing wrong with that, but I didn't say anything of the kind.  I just hoped you would enter a relationship with someone who would be willing to wait on taking your heart until he could commit to cherishing it.  I've been expecting Heero to disappear on you for months." 

Her lip trembled.  Sometimes…sometimes on the worst days, she had feared he might too.  "Why is it that it's okay for you and Noin to be normal human beings and do whatever you feel like doing before you got married, but not me? I _love_ Heero, Milliardo! That's more than many people can say in regard to their sex lives. I truly and deeply love him, and he loves me. And I wanted to express it. How can you ask 'What did I expect?' " 

"I'm just looking out for you.  You ought to have nothing less than the best.  I didn't commit to a relationship with Noin for the very reason that I knew I wasn't ready to honor it, Relena.  It took time for me to realize what I really wanted and what I was willing to do for it.  Heero and I are alike in a lot of ways.  I'm just afraid you both jumped into things too fast, especially being so physical before you had your emotions and intentions in place, and then trying to hide it.  If it needs to be hidden you're not comfortable with it, and you really ought to be." 

There it was again, that guilty feeling. Stubbornly, she reminded herself that in these times there was nothing wrong with having sex with the boy you loved. There was nothing wrong with it at all! Zechs was just too hung up on her being fifteen and a symbol to the world. Well, she was no longer fifteen and she was no longer a symbol. She had an important job, sure, but that was it. God, he was almost as bad as Heero for idolizing her to be something she was not!  She had wanted this, wanted him, and…!

"You can be angry at me all you want," Zechs said blandly, leaning back in his chair, "but I know you expected more for yourself. You were never one to do what everyone else was doing just to feel normal. I thought having the highest expectations for love and romance would be easy for _you_. I thought you would expect better treatment of your heart and body, but I suppose it was your own decision to give them away for temporary enjoyment of sexual pleasures rather than waiting until you could be sure it would last forever. I like Heero.  I see that you are good for each other.  I just expected you to have used more patience and discretion." 

She wanted to hit him, but the only thing that happened was the formation of hot, angry tears in her eyes. "Well, don't put those kind of expectations on me," she said quietly through clenched teeth. "I didn't throw away my virtues. I don't regret any of the intimacy I shared with Heero.  I didn't sacrifice anything for sex." 

"Well, for love then," he said flippantly. "As if it makes that big of a difference in the end, since they go together in this case. You're still here, aren't you? And where is he? Why are you in this situation?" 

She didn't answer. "I expected more of Heero," she said quietly.  There were tears on her cheeks.

"I know, but you can't make it all Heero's fault. Men don't always think when it comes to these things." 

She turned away in pain and disgust, though whether at him or herself or Heero he had no idea. She did not feel well. Underneath it all, she knew Milliardo and Noin were worried about her. She knew they cared about her and wanted nothing but to help her, but her brother's accusations made her angry all the same. She did not like being told she was wrong. She did not want to think that maybe she had messed up somewhere, that she had not been foresighted enough, that she had gotten caught up in her feelings and had forgotten to plan ahead. 

"Forget it," she said huffily, and turning on her heel, strode out of the room and out of his presence. Once beyond the wall, she leaned back against it, taking deep breaths, and tried to pull herself together. In these moods she had always depended on Heero. He was a rock to run for support, a rock that would carry her up softly and gently, lay her down and smother her with love and understanding. She knew his mind so well. It was _not_ about sex. When she touched him she touched more than his body. She could feel his soul under his skin, see his thoughts in his eyes, and she knew that he loved her, felt the same way about her. How could Zechs accuse her of being wanton and disrespectful of herself? Did he know what it was like to look into the eyes of a man who loved you and even conceive of saying no?

She peered around the corner as Milliardo sighed and settled into one of the chairs by the window. Noin (Relena would always think of her as Noin) sat on the sofa beside him. They sat in silence for awhile, not feeling it necessary to speak, but the glances between them were comforting and meaningful. Looking at them, Relena was jealous. Heero loved her like that, or he had once. But he wouldn't keep her.  That seemed to be the point Zechs was making.

She squeezed her eyes shut as Noin spoke to her husband, Relena's brother, in those soft, rolling tones of hers.  Relena wished that she could ever have allowed herself the certainty that Heero would be there forever for her, but truthfully she had never allowed herself to think that Heero might really marry her.  In that sense, she really hadn't planned ahead.  Maybe she had even known all along that it would end up this way.

"She's still quite spirited," Noin remarked admirably after a few minutes of reflection. 

"She's stubborn and proud," Zechs said acidly. Relena sighed, looking down at her feet, but she felt Noin's responding smile in her voice. 

"So are you," Lucrezia Merquise replied quietly. "You shouldn't be so hard on her. You know _we_ didn't wait when we young." 

"I know," Zechs said quietly. "But I have to be hard or she won't hear me. I know I'm not blameless in anything either. I have blood on my hands, hate and revenge..." 

"Self-righteous and spiteful is what you were," Noin said. "But I was patient with you." 

He stopped for a moment and then laughed at her frankness. "I don't expect her to be perfect either," he amended, "but I would like her to realize the value of the things she has lost, the price she paid for them, and take responsibility for that. She's a good girl, pure-hearted, kind, bold, brave. I always knew she would love strongly and passionately but she's not the kind of girl who can start over easily. I don't know if she can recover from losing someone after giving so much. She should have expected more, held on to her virtues. You know she has always wanted to marry that boy, and in a sense she has pretended like they were married, even though she must have known it wasn't anything like that.  I do think that Heero Yuy has the strength to be everything she needs if he really loved her. He wouldn't question his worthiness as she says if she forced him to work for something. That judgment would have been on her side." 

Relena swallowed, biting her lower lip as she listened. Was any of that true? She tried to see his side. _Oh, Heero.._.. 

Taking a deep breath, Relena gathered her shattered illusions and pushed herself away from the wall. It was time to face the music and seek restoration in her family, even a strange and disconnected family such as this. Milliardo did care about her. He was just not much of a compromising man. She reappeared in the room, apologetic for her rudeness and short temper and unsure what to say. 

"Come sit down, Relena," Lucrezia beckoned when she saw her. "We know how hard this must be for you," Lucrezia added. 

Relena hesitated for a moment, but then she yielded to Noin's bidding. Her steps were light and smooth as she joined her brother and his wife near the window and sat down gracefully on the couch across from them, folding the skirt of her dress under her as she sat. Straightening her back, she clasped her hands over her knees and sat like a statue, not looking up. 

She bit her lip, casting a furtive direction at her brother. Such sweet, spoiled innocence, he seemed to say, such betrayed devotion. Young fool. There was nothing she could say. The last time they had made love with Heero was still vivid in her mind, the slickness of their bodies under the hot water of the shower, Heero's hands in her wet and tangled hair, his fierceness in claiming her with surety and confidence. She thought she had felt something special in their lovemaking recently, in everything they did together. Things were comfortable, easy, lovely and light. But maybe she had been mistaken, or maybe it was only she who felt it. Maybe she had given too much too quickly and left no room for progression, as Zechs seemed to be saying. 

"You gave him everything and asked for nothing in return," Zechs replied calmly to her admission, as if he could read her mind. "Why do you always give so much? Why do women assume men will stay forever because women are willing to? Why pay for something you can get for free?" 

"Zechs..." Lucrezia whispered. "She doesn't need any further..." 

Relena felt tears in her eyes and tried to force them down, to stop thinking about Heero and the way she felt with him. Her fingers clenched around the material of her dress, the knuckles turning white. "I knew what I was doing," she choked. Maybe she had been used, but in that case they were using each other, and she loved him.

"I know you care about him," he said gently. "And I'm sure he cares about you.  But relationships only end one of two ways and I know you wanted it to end the other way." 

She felt cold. Was she guilty? It had been her idea to make love so soon. She had known he wouldn't _want_ to say no, but was that wrong, when she loved him so much? She wanted him too.  Her hands were blue and cold. "I'm sorry I disappointed you," she said quietly. "Heero means so much to me." Maybe it hadn't been prudent or perfect, but… "I needed him. I love him and I miss him a lot, but I don't regret our time together." 

"Tell me the truth, Relena," Milliardo said more gently, leaning toward her. "I know you loved him, but did you give so much because you were afraid he would leave you if you didn't?" 

She bit her lip. He had almost died waiting for her, had almost given up without her. Yes, she had wanted to prove to him that he had her, to clear away all the doubts and uncertainties. Maybe, maybe she had given her body to him as a way of atonement. Maybe they hadn't really been ready. He had uncertainties despite her generosity, despite her willingness to please. Well, it was too late now, and even if she were guilty she would admit that she enjoyed it. The feeling of him over her and inside her, his hands on her body, his lips on her lips was heaven. She had never felt that way with anyone else before. It was like the world disappeared, like the mechanics of the motions and the movements were second nature and quite forgettable. All she could think about when she was with him was his soul and how he made her feel. If she was guilty, her guilt was to love too strongly and imprudently, and she could live with that, though without him she would be miserable. That was just the price she had to pay. But as her brother said, there was a price. "I loved him," she said firmly. "And I wanted his touch. I didn't and don't feel guilty, Milliardo. Everything about it was wonderful, even though now..." She trailed off, biting her lip at the reminder. It was wonderful. It _was_. It was over now. "Now, I'm just sad." 

Noin moved to sit behind Relena, grabbing her shoulders. At the touch of human hands, Relena's rigid posture melted and she crumpled into Noin's arms, seeking silent comfort, tears leaking from her eyes as Noin smoothed her hair and whispered comforting words, rocking her like a child. Relena felt Milliardo sit beside her. 

"You're a good woman," he said comfortingly, touching her shoulder. "I just want the best for you." 

"I know," she said softly, not looking at him. "I'm so sorry I disappointed you with my decision, but I _do_ love him." 

"It's not Heero, Relena," Lucrezia said softly. "God knows how much we respect him. It's just the way things have turned out." 

"You should have used more moderation," Zechs said stubbornly, but without harshness. "If he loved you he would have waited, out of respect for you and your family and himself even. Men can wait, whatever people say.  Everyone would have been happy and you would not suffer like this now. You plunged in and gave him everything, expecting nothing. But I understand why you did it. You just both should have known better." 

"Thank you," she said, unable to think of anything else. "I'm going to go up to my room." She rose, feeling a little light-headed. 

Heero was really gone. Would he come back? Did she want him to? No. She did not want to hear him apologize and get back together, continuing as they had. She missed him. She loved him. But if it had to end, it might as well end now.   
  


*****

"Wake up, prince Damion," Manny cried cheerfully in his usual brisk, bright tones as he crossed through Damion's room and clambered up on the window seat to opened the curtains and turn the blinds. Sunlight streamed into Damion's room at 6:30 in the morning, flooding the carpet with a river of white light. 

Damion opened his eyes. He was usually awake before Manny came in, but not always. God, it was early. His bed was so warm and comfortable; he didn't want to move. 

"Come on, get up," Manny said, leaping down from the window and strolling up to the side of Damion's bed. He banged on the headboard, rapping his knuckles on the wood behind Damion's head. Damion winced, sitting up. Manny grinned, brown eyes shining beneath sandy brown hair that was barely combed this morning. "Long night last night, eh? And another fun day today!" 

Nodding, Damion sighed, threw the blankets aside and got up. 

Manny grinned, tossing him his robe. "There's coffee waiting for you in your study," he said. 

"Yay," Damion said with as much enthusiasm as he could muster. It wasn't that impressive. 

"And a great stack of papers of proposals to okay before the mail goes out," Manny added with a wink. 

"Delightful." 

"Hopefully it won't be as bad as last night," Manny said as he sauntered out of the room. "I'll see you in twenty minutes, Master Damion!" 

Damion sighed, yawning and rubbing his face as the door closed. Hopefully today would be shorter at least. Except for how late he was up doing paperwork, last night hadn't been so bad. After his speech there had been a reception, and after the reception there had been reports, which Manny had stayed up to help him finish. Delegation was still leveling out and the staff was unsettled, so more responsibly fell on him than should have been, but things were getting better. They had finished everything two hours past midnight, but there was more to do today. 

But the reception itself had gone well. 

Audrey had amazed him. She had been absolutely perfect. In her dress with her hair up, she glowed like some heavenly creature, her skin shining in the light, soft and smooth and in such contrast with her dark features he almost didn't believe she was real. And yet she trailed him always, conversing with other parties that happened to be only a few feet away so that when he needed her for introductions, they could be made smoothly. White teeth flashing, she took his arm with a light touch, extended her hand to visiting lords and deferred to almost everything he said without missing a beat or looking like a milksop. Damion knew it was a show, but it seemed real and he had never felt so honored. To anyone of power and consequence, she praised him, supporting nearly everything that came out of his mouth with her own personal touch. Sometimes she would disagree, but always on matters of taste, not policy, and though he knew she must in actuality disagree with more of what he said, her acceptance for his sake gratified him beyond belief. Her father had also been present, and he too seemed pleased and proud of her conduct. 

It was important that she appear that way. Marrying him would put her in a place of power when he was crowned. Those that stood above her now would soon be subordinate to her wishes and desires and everyone knew it. It was important that she appear to yield to him, to look controllable, even if she was not. That he would have wished her to be naturally like-minded on most things went without saying, especially since her power would not be equal to his, but he had no desire to force his will on her. Her support, unsolicited, pleased him considerably. 

With the music and the lights and the vision of her so congenital before his eyes, he had wanted to nothing than to take her by the waist and dance with her, but it was not that kind of party. More so, with the way she attended to him he almost felt the urge to bring her back to his rooms, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, as if she were already his wife in body and heart. So she had behaved, but he had to remind himself that he could scarcely kiss her without permission, and for some reason holding her upset her considerably. He still could not figure out why. 

There was no time to think on it now. 

When Damion finished readying himself, he went to his study. Manny was already there, pouring coffee into two mugs. The reports were laid out on a table, but to his surprise, there were not that as many as he had feared. 

"Terese took some of the development contracts away," Manny supplied as he handed Damion a steaming mug of coffee mixed with a little cream and sugar. "Apparently those don't have to go through you." 

"Good," Damion sighed with a content smile, sitting down and stretching his legs out beneath the table. Manny sat across from him. "I'll be happier when the work load has been delegated and I won't be solely responsible for _any_ of this." 

A knock on the outside of the door made them both look up. 

"A call-in from Cinq, my Lord," one the serving girls said contritely. He recognized her as Mary Winters, the one of the cook's oldest daughter. He knew almost everyone in the palace who had been there since before his father's death, but there were a lot of new faces these days too. 

Damion sighed. "I'll be back," he said. Manny nodded absently, peering at one of the reports half cross-eyed, turning it sideways like a puzzle piece. 

The nearest transmission vid-screen was only two doors down from the study. As Damion entered, he pushed the button that allowed the incoming signal to be received and leaned against the wall. 

"Hey, prince Damion," Duo Maxwell said cheerily, blinking those enormous blue eyes at him. Hilde waved in the background, jumping up and down on her toes behind Duo's shoulder. "We just wanted to call in and apologize for our abrupt departure." 

"Thanks," he said with a small smile, amused. 

Duo grinned. "Well, Heero ran off the minute the plane landed and no one seems to know where he as gone, but the rest of are doing fine and will be heading our separate ways pretty soon. We just wanted you to know that we had a great time in Taravren." 

"Where are you headed?" Damion asked. "The colonies?" 

Duo shook his head. "Nope. Actually, I agreed to stop in at Preventor Headquarters. They're requesting some volunteers to go west to where the anarchy riots are taking place and gather some information or something. I'm going to stop in and see what it's all about. I feel out of the loop." 

Damion nodded soberly, but didn't offer what he knew about the situation. "Take care of yourself," he said soberly. 

"Oh, don't worry, I will," Duo said nonchalantly. "Anyway, sorry for the way things wound down at the end there. Hilde and I had a great time anyway. Just wanted to let you know." 

"You're welcome," Damion replied with a smile. Duo winked and the transmission cut off. 

When he returned to the study, Audrey was there and Manny was gone. 

He stopped in confusion, staring at her. "Wha...?" 

"Your servant went to make more coffee," she said quietly, standing by the table in an airy green silk skirt and cream colored blouse. She pushed a lock of dark hair from her face, and her eyes skidded over his face to the corner of the room. "I woke early and thought I could be of use to you this morning." 

He looked at her in puzzlement, feeling strange. She came to spend time with him this early, to help him with his work...? "Sure," he said, collecting himself. 

She smiled and seated herself, the fullness of her face and smooth skin of her cheeks making her appear younger than he was becoming accustomed to thinking of her. The sorrow he sometimes felt so keenly about her was not present this morning. She looked as she had the day he took her out on that picnic, happy and resilient and a little unsure of herself. Returning her smile, he sat down in the chair beside her, trying to tame his distraction at her presence. 

Tucking that same straying lock of hair behind her hair, she reached for the documents and began looking them over. He merely watched her for a moment, pleasantly surprised by her presence, before he went back to work. He could tell she obviously knew quite a bit about the proposals he was forced to approve and seemed quite capable of handling them herself, but he wondered why she did. 

"You don't have to help me with this," he said after a minute, and then flushed. "I mean, I like you here and I appreciate your help, but this isn't your responsibility." 

"I know," she said, continuing to fill out the sheets before her with a graceful hand. "But I heard about all the work you did late last night when I was able to go to bed and that there was more this morning. Besides, I will have to get used to working with you and seeing you at more than formal functions. I should be aware of the work you do and..." she looked up into his face. "I don't mind, really." 

Nodding slowly, trying to dissect the meaning behind her words, he asked her to pass him the stack of papers to her left, which she did silently. He was halfway through the reports when a possibility for her positive mood occurred to him. "Audrey," he said suddenly. "Did you enjoy yourself last night?" 

She stopped what she was writing, freezing beside him. "Yes, I did," she replied softly, setting her pen down, staring straight ahead. 

He wanted to ask her what she liked about it. Maybe it was just being the center of attention, of wearing a beautiful dress and absorbing so many compliments. But maybe she liked playing the role of his wife, of being on his arm. What was she thinking now? She didn't mind helping him with his work, or spending more time with him? Did she care about him at all, or was she merely enjoying the privileges associated with her position? For the time being, he supposed it didn't matter. Reaching across the space between them, he touched her face with his right hand, barely brushing two fingers beneath her chin. She turned her head with his touch. 

The look in her eyes was darkly luminous, neither encouraging nor discouraging. The self-possession was still there, enveloping her in a protective shield, but somehow he felt like she wanted him to try and break through it, just for a moment, if he dared. Leaning forward and tilting his head, he met her mouth with his and kissed her softly. Electricity stirred in his gut when she at first hesitated and then kissed him back, eyes closed, but he didn't push for more. He didn't want her to become uncomfortable and leave, and in a way, this was kiss he ought to have given her at the end of last night if he'd had the nerve. Tentatively, he slipped a hand behind her head, caressing her neck as he threaded his fingers through those dark strands of hair. She did not pull away. He kissed her again, encouraged by her response, moving his mouth against hers with as little aggression as he could manage and still draw from her the flames she ignited in his heart and stomach. 

He felt it when she pulled away, but she did it slowly, kissing him back before she disengaged. He met her eyes when she opened them and she did not turn from him immediately. 

"I'm glad you had a good night," he said to break the silence, pulling back from her. "I did too. Thank you." 

She flushed then, trying to contain a smile, a pink blush staining her cheeks. Chuckling, she brought a hand up to her mouth to hide her laughter, light dancing in her eyes. He realized then that what he had said sounded very different from what he had meant to convey. Mortified, he tried to apologize, but she waved away his sputters, laughing harder, until they were both laughing under their breath. 

When Manny came back to the room with coffee for Audrey, he gave them both very strange looks and the one he directed at Damion was particularly dissecting, but neither of them bothered to explain. Even so, they returned to the reports in better humor, and Damion went back to work with a flicker of hope.   
  


*****

Maple trees lined the walkways beneath her window, shading the cobblestone paths and casting shapes like the merging of many stars across the neatly trimmed lawn. 

Heero stood alone on the path with his knees locked, tilting his head to stare up at the bricks leading to her windowsill, at the curtains that billowed outward in the breeze to be caressed by the soft sunshine. As a shadow passed by the curtains, he smiled to himself, feeling the breeze stir his hair and brush against his skin. He closed his eyes, breathing in the scents of summer and thought he could smell her too in this place, a scent like flowers and honey. When he opened his eyes, the shadow in the window was gone. 

Turning away, the heels of his boot scraping against the cobblestone, he continued on, strolling quickly around the side of the building toward the front gates, concentrating on the image he had of her in his mind and anticipating when he would next see her face. The watchman looked up when he passed but did not stop him from entering. He was a recognizable face around Zech's manor house and in jeans and a dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up just below the elbows, he did not look at all threatening. He nodded to the watchman as he passed and received a wave in return, but the guard still leaned over the pager to alert the household. 

Burying anxious thoughts, he tried to appear non-chalant as he strolled past a marble fountain and made his way up the cut stone to the massive double doors at the front entrance of the house. Pleasant thoughts of her mingled with doubt and fear now that he was so close, and his breathing quickened in response to his anxiety. When he came to the front door, he blinked in surprise as it swung open to reveal a stranger, probably a house servant. The man nodded to him and stepped back to let him through without speaking. Heero obeyed the silent request and entered the hallway. The butler closed the door softly behind him 

"Master Yuy I presume?" 

Heero nodded. 

"Walk straight to the back room, sir. He's waiting for you."

Heero nodded and said nothing. So Zechs knew he was here. Well, knowing Zechs, he wasn't surprised. It was past time this was done. If her brother had been anybody else, he wouldn't have felt it necessary to go through him, but in reality, Heero had more of a history and understanding of Zechs than Relena did, and this matter had to be resolved. Because maybe in Zech's mind, Heero Yuy was still a colonist, a soldier, perhaps even an enemy. He would have to convince him that he had a right to speak to Relena, tell him that he did love his sister and that he wanted to marry her. Even so, he felt queasy thinking about it, decidedly unsettled. A blanket of dread clung to him that he couldn't shake. 

Taking a deep breath to settle his resolve, he followed the instructions of the butler and followed the hallway straight back until he came to something like a living room with a sliding door. As he entered, the butler silently shut the door behind him. It clicked closed just behind his heels. 

Heero was left alone in the room with Zechs Merquise. 

The room was spacious and orderly, with only a few pieces of heavy wood furniture, padded chairs, a book shelf and a table. Blue carpet, a few paintings against the walls and dark green leafy plants in the corners and window sills gave the room contrast and color. Heero thought he could sense Noin in the room's decor, classy and substantial but with a light, airy touch. Glass doors overlooked a back patio with the light-weight white curtains drawn shut, but the light from the sunshine shone through. It was a quiet, ventilated place, Zech's manor. 

Zechs himself was leaning over a table with his back to him, scrawling a note a piece of white paper, but he was obviously quite aware of Heero's presence so Heero said nothing. He did not like this feeling, but he waited. There was bad blood here. He could feel it in the air, a sizzling tension like electricity or the snap of a whip. 

"I've been wondering if you would show up," Zechs said at last, setting down his pen and turning to face him. His expression was blank, but his eyes were ice cold, a frosty winter blue, steely and commanding. 

"I'm here to see Relena," he said strongly to cut through the oppressive silence, returning an intense gaze of his own, letting his arms hang at his sides and straightening his back. 

"She doesn't need to see you," Zechs replied. "She's heartbroken in her room." 

"Zechs," Heero petitioned in the following chill. "I know you don't think I'm not good enough for her. Like you, I've been a soldier all my life, but I've been told I'm capable of more." 

"She deserves more than your experimentation," Zechs said with a tone that bit sharply and deeply with heavy sarcasm. Zech's brow contorted as he said it and his eyes hardened into something like glaciers, or cold blue steel. Heero was silent for a moment, absorbing the full capacity of the scorn and disappointment thrown in his face. Heero felt the blow in his gut; it shivered up and down his spine, but he locked his knees and kept his head up. He would at least attempt win Relena back, whatever the cost. 

"This is between me and her," he said with control. "You don't have to get involved." 

"I had a high respect for you, Heero," Zechs cut in, over-riding him somehow. "I allowed you to protect her in my place. Why did you dishonor her in this fashion?" 

"It was not my intention to dishonor her," Heero replied. He smiled. He could say it. "I love her." 

To his surprise, Zechs merely pushed away from the table. "So she's told me," he said with scorn. 

His mouth parted in surprise as Zechs stood. She had told him? And he still thought...? 

"I don't mean to hurt her," Heero tried to clarify, more forcefully, a little more desperately. "I love her, Zechs. I wouldn't have come here if I didn't." 

Zechs waved his words away as if they were nothing. "You think that's all there is to it? I know you're jealous," Zechs said. "And I know you care for her and that you know she cares for you. But why in the name of God's green Earth did you think that gave you license to sneak into her bed behind everyone's back?" 

He resented that, and knew his expression reflected his resentment. "It wasn't like that..." he protested. 

But he felt his confidence being cut down and shredded as Zechs turned on him, eyes flashing in hot anger. Both of his hands landed flat and heavy on the tabletop. "Oh, it wasn't? For God's sake, Heero. I _knew_ you would end up in her bed one day." Heero's mouth dropped open as Zechs stabbed the tabletop with one finger, mouth set in a firm line. "I didn't tell her so, but I saw the two of you together and I _knew_ you would take advantage of her the first opportunity you had." 

"I didn't take advantage!" Heero half shouted back, furious. "You make it sound like I used her just to satisfy myself!" 

"Didn't you?" Zechs demanded. "Why the hell is she here if you're so in love and everything is going so well? What's the problem?" 

Heero stiffened and kept his mouth shut. He was not going to tell Zechs that he did everything in his power to satisfy Relena when they made love. What was the _problem_? He was worthless, that was the problem. He didn't deserve to make love to her. He didn't deserve to touch her face and hold her in public or in private. But damn it, he needed her, he loved her, and if she was okay with it, he would attempt to rise high enough to love her. Zechs would just have to accept that. "I take care of her," he said defiantly. "I love her, Zechs. I don't take advantage of her. _She's_ the one who wanted it so persistently anyway." 

Zechs shook his head, straightening. "Be a man, Heero. You're not a kid anymore and I don't feel sorry for you. You needed something that she offered so you took it. Sexually, emotionally... I don't care if you loved her." 

Heero tensed. "What do you mean you don't care...?" 

Zechs did not slow or soften his tone. "She was a well-bred lady. She comes from a respected line of kings. She should be courted by princes and shown every honor, given every sentiment." 

Heero remained stoically silent on that one. Princes. He thought of Damion, of Taravren. He remembered how strange he felt when he arrived there with Relena, when he remembered how he had come to be with her, his sickness, his desire, his love, all mixed together in a mass of confusing and alarming emotions. He had stabbed an honest and honorable prince for her. He had tried to kill himself because of her. Had he done other things, other things _to_ her in what he thought were _for_ her...? 

"I knew you would take her if she let you," Zechs said. "But I thought you respected her." 

"I do," Heero said, glowering balefully. 

Zech's voice shook with barely contained rage. "Two years, Heero. In secrecy you bedded her for_ two years_, without giving a damn about _anybody_." Zech's jaw was locked, and his words came out sharply and fell heavily like stones. "She's a princess. She deserves to have a man who will love her the way she deserves, with sincerity, tenderness, strength and honesty. She deserves to be loved for everything she is, _publicly_, respected for everything she is. And she deserves it from someone who wants to be with her forever. She's always seen herself that way. It's the society she was brought up in, what she was raised to expect. I know she loves you. Nothing else would have caused her to sacrifice so much. And she sacrifices a damn lot for you.  She's always had fears that you would leave her." 

Forever. Heero shook, his thoughts whirling in a spiral of rising and falling emotions and ideas that cascaded about him like a waterfall. Her kisses. Her body. Her words. Her smiles. They all intoxicated him, enflamed him. Two years he had indulged in it before he even considered where it was all going. Two years and the idea of marriage absolutely terrified him, so much so he couldn't even admit it to himself until it was shoved under his nose. Instead he delayed and hurt her over and over until he had sabotaged it for them both. Had he done it on purpose, subconsciously? Well, if he did he was only fooling himself. He couldn't live without her now. 

"Well?" Zechs demanded. 

"I screwed up," he said. He couldn't shake her image. It felt strange not to have her breathing somewhere nearby, not to be able to reach out and grab her, pull her close to him. He was in too deep. He loved her too much. "But I'm willing to make amends. I know I'm not worthy of her." 

"No, I wouldn't say you are," Zechs said gruffly 

He continued on, burying his reactions, his feelings, as well as he could. "I may not be what she deserves..." he began again steadily, "but..." 

"Don't," Zechs growled at him. "You did not come to apologize. I know that. Not that your sympathies would mean much." 

He closed his eyes. Why did he come here? It sounded so incredibly unsatisfactory now... "I want to marry her, Zechs." He did not open his eyes to see Zech's reaction. The words almost seemed pulled from him with a hook. He wanted to sink to his knees, in supplication, repentance, for another chance he didn't deserve. "I know I messed up. I know it was wrong to use her that way for so long. But I couldn't explain." His voice was surprisingly even, controlled. "I loved her and I hated the way I loved her." He shook his head.  "I tried to talk to her, but I was too weak." He was not one for words, even now, especially with the sick heaviness in his heart and stomach, like a lump of gray misery. 

"You're a sorry case, Heero," Zechs said without an ounce of kindness or pity. "You know it doesn't have the same ring to it now as it would have if you had wanted her with that kind of sincerity the whole time.  I can't even tell if you're sincere now. I can't read a single emotion on your face. How the hell does she deal with you? If you're speaking the truth... Well, you have the strength and dedication of ten men, so don't blame your mistakes on weakness." 

Weakness. Perhaps not. What he had done he had done willing or he would not have done it. He loved her, but... "Is it wrong?" he asked. That he desired her shamelessly for so long, without thought to her security and lengthening happiness, yes, but... 

"That you love her?" Zechs replied. He frowned, not replying for a moment. At length, he shook his head and waved a dismissive hand. "I don't know. You claim to really love her and I've seen it, but you used her too. I don't approve of the way it happened. I don't approve of the way you used your love as rationalization to please yourself. I don't like how long it went on, behind closed doors, without thought to anyone else. No matter how serious you were, I knew you would end up walking away." 

He felt cold inside, and desperate to explain himself. "I'm still here," he said quietly, but it sounded like someone else's voice. 

Zechs snorted. "Why are you here, Heero?" 

This was frustrating. "Damn it, Zechs! I'm telling you I want to marry her!" 

Zechs merely shook his head. 

"You don't believe me," Heero said with profound realizations. "I know I'm just a soldier. Maybe that's all you see too, but I love her." 

"She sees something different, is that it?" Zechs inferred. "Give me a little credit, Heero. I know you're a man. I can see you standing there. And I know my sister is a woman, but she is still _my_ sister! I grew up wondering about her constantly, trying to protect her as I could. I was a soldier too. That has nothing to do with this conversation. I don't think being a soldier makes you unworthy of any girl. You don't have to be a prince by blood, but with a princess, you better damn well _act_ like one. You're telling me you felt _unworthy?_ True or not, you took something you _felt_ you didn't deserve. And by doing so, you did a dishonor to her and yourself. How could you do that? The point here isn't where you come from!" Zechs was barely beneath a yell now, raging with a coiled ferocity that pounded into Heero's ears heavily. "The point is that you took something you didn't have a right to take and took it without reverence or supplication." 

It was too much. "I _love_ her!" he cried angrily, quaking inside, desperate. "I want her too, yes," he admitted, trying to control his tone, lower his voice. "Maybe it's wrong the way it happened, but I want it because I love her. She wanted it too. You have to understand. You married Noin, didn't you? I love Relena, for her sake, for my sake. I can't help it. Everything she is inspires me. I wanted to know her deeper and yes, I took her and yes, it felt wrong, but I won't deny that I loved it and her and I still do! I want the best for her. I wasn't ready then to give the best. I didn't really understand what she needed, what I needed, but I do now. I know she's your sister, Zechs, but I feel about her the way I hope you feel about Noin. I would do anything for her sake. I am here to ask her to marry me." 

"Damn right you are," Zechs snarled. "That's the least you could do for her now." 

Heero's mouth parted in astonishment, but no words came out. What was Zechs saying? 

"This isn't about love, Heero. It's about respect and duty as much as feeling." 

Duty? Terror settled in. 

"Is she pregnant?" he blurted out. 

He saw it coming, but for some reason he did nothing to stop it. Zech's full arm slap hit him in the side of the face and he stumbled sideways, his read ringing, stars dancing before his eyes. "What the hell is wrong with you?" Zechs demanded as he stumbled, blinking though the spots. "No, she isn't _pregnant_." 

Heero froze in shock. 

Zechs was silent, breathing for a moment. "Sorry. I lost my temper." 

He still couldn't say anything. 

Zechs growled. "What do you think marriage is, Heero? A compensation for mistakes? A last resort to continue a relationship?  That's what it sounds like from you." 

"No," he said, refusing to rub his jaw. What was he supposed to say? 

"No, it isn't," Zechs spat. "But you took all the privileges it entails, didn't you? Damn it, answer me!" 

He closed his eyes. "I lived with her, and loved her," he said quietly. "Yes." 

"Yeah," Zechs said knowingly, scornfully. "You bastard. All of the benefits without the price that makes it _valuable_. She's a special kind of girl, Heero," he said. "Not every girl is like her, I know, but _you_ should have known." 

He didn't say anything. 

"She belongs to you," Zechs said with a tone like resignation. "Do you _understand_ that? You lie with a girl in love, you claim a part of her. She belongs to you. That's why you can walk in here and just demand to speak with her. A girl like her has to become real calloused before she can sleep with any man and just shrug it off.  She loves you with every bone in her body and right now her heart is broken." 

Heero closed his eyes. 

"Relena is yours," Zechs continued. "I've lost her to you for a long time and you never even came to pay your respects. I expected it to happen, but I didn't know it would go on like this. What did you think it was like, picking a stone up off the street? She's given everything of herself to you, her heart and soul and body, her mind, her care, her love. She loves you so much a blind man could see it. You know it too. You have to feel it." 

"I love her too," he said quietly. 

"That's no excuse," Zechs said. "I'm tired of hearing you use it like one.  Whether you marry her or not she will always belong to you. She is like a wife stripped of all her titles and honors. She would follow you to the ends of the earth just to keep you close, like a slave if you required it. And you would _let_ her. And you tell me it's because you _love_ her? You're afraid to love her as much as she loves you. You're afraid to commit to her as she has to you, but she can never get over you, Yuy. Wherever you go you will have her heart. Her heart and body go together, because she is a woman. She has less of it to give to anyone else now, because that's just the kind of girl she is. How could you ruin something like that? I did so much to protect her." 

"I want to marry her, Zechs," he said desperately, frustrated and unable to express his sincerity. "I understand what you are saying. I can either honor her or cast her off, but I'm telling you I came here because I _want_ to marry her." 

"Did you buy her a ring?" 

Heero's dire and desperate proclamation faltered...and died. 

He'd looked. He came off the plane burning with fever. He'd looked everywhere. He didn't know it would cost so much. 

"I can't afford it," he said softly, and shrank back from the expression on Zech's face. That expression told him to get out. Never mind that he would dishonor Relena by leaving her with her brother, damaged and forsaken. He should just go. He'd done enough. "I came here to win her back," he said. "But maybe I can't do that." Maybe all of this was just an airing of Zech's anger, a tribute to the past. Perhaps Zechs never meant to let him near Relena, and did he dare defy him now? He tried to banish thoughts of Relena from his mind. But he couldn't. "I love her with everything I have, Zechs," he said in final supplication, hoping for anything. "It just isn't a lot."  Vaguely, he was aware of tremendous feelings of sadness and despair welling up inside of him.  Unable to fight anymore, he let them come.  "I'm sorry," he said numbly, relenting at last.  "I'm sorry about everything." 

Silence. He could feel the pressure in the room. 

He turned to go. 

"Heero," Zechs halted him suddenly as he put his hand on the door. 

He stopped. 

"Heero," Zechs continued. "She _told_ me what happened. I'm more angry than I can explain that you broke her this way. First you took her shamelessly, love or no love, and then you made her feel like she wasn't worth the taking. You stopped speaking to her and you treated her like a possession. And when she confessed to you her mistakes in humility and repentance, you made her feel like a criminal. I hate you for that." 

He squeezed his eyes shut, fingers clenching. Did he have to hit him all the way out of her life? Something inside him was screaming. _No! Not out of her life... _And the half of him, the part of him that was still a soldier to the bone was shuffling her out with all the other distractions, building walls and creating spaces, distances... 

"But maybe none of that matters, if you have changed or you are willing to be governed," Zechs continued. "I love my wife. I wasn't perfect either. Neither was she. I had my revenge to cling to and I was too blind to see her loyalty. These things are not easy; I never said they were. But what you have to understand that what you must want is forgiveness, not to be excused, because I will not excuse you." 

He took in a breath of air and the walls began crumbling. What was he saying? 

"What you did to my sister was wrong," Zechs said flatly. "From the beginning it was base and selfish and a dishonor to her. Despite that, I believe that you do love her. But love doesn't justify your misconduct.  Even so, my sister is not stupid. She fell in love with you because she believed you were worth loving. She didn't foresee the end of things; she didn't think that far ahead, but she knew you for who and what you are. She's too good and too pure and too strong to choose someone that did not match her. You're not worthless, Heero. Nor were you ever unworthy of my sister. You did yourself a dishonor by believing you couldn't treat her honorably. It has only hurt the both of you. What I've been trying to badger you into is a sincere apology.  An apology to be the foundation of a change in the way things are going to be from here on out. No more excuses." 

Heero turned with a faint glimmer of hope, taking deeper breaths. 

"Ask her to marry you if that's what you want," Zechs told him. "Tell her how you feel. Apologize and promise her everything you promised me, but only if you mean it. If you do that, and she agrees, you have my consent to marry her, but you had better be honest and keep every word you utter. Accept your mistakes and make up for them. I can not stand to see her heartbroken. I know you make her happy when you behave yourself, and I do not think I could stop you if you chose to take her anyway." 

Hope leaped into his heart like a star from heaven, roaring with a fiery flame. He had Zech's consent. Consent! He'd lived off of beggary and secrets for so long with her, in defiance, in rationalization, that this felt strange. But he now had the opportunity to start over, with the intention of making her his wife in name _and_ reality, to hold her and protect her, to have the privilege to make her happy, to build her a home... He had consent. It felt like a window had been opened to admit a breeze, like cool water pouring in over his head. 

He could scarcely breathe. But he felt himself smile with excitement as he turned again to the sliding door, this time with energy and purpose as he turned to go. 

"Heero," Zechs called after him darkly. "She doesn't know you are here. She loves you a great deal. If I find out you did or said _anything_ just to get back in her bed, whether you love her or not, I will kill you." 

"If that happens," Heero replied over his shoulder. "I deserve to die."   
  
  


  
I hope the position of Zechs in this story is understood.  I have an older brother and I honestly think he would behave just like that.


	12. Heero's Proposal

A note on reviews: I worked really hard on this and I really seriously do need comments for every new chapter. If I don't get any encouragement I burn out on what feels like an extraordinary waste of time. So if you like this story at ALL, tell me why and what, etc. Or suggest what you think will or should happen. If you don't like it or think it's "off," please tell me that so I can fix it. Be polite, but I take constructive criticism. People, it takes you two minutes to review. It takes me like ten hours to write a decent chapter. And if it's not decent, the only way I can tell after writing for ten hours is if you tell me. So PLEASE review. I really appreciate it. If I see your name often enough, it's probable that I will eventually read and review your fics too. So for the love of god, or at least if you want this story to continue with any speed, _please_ review. If reviews are extraordinary, it will get me thinking about it and then I will _have_ to write the next chapter or go crazy. So don't be lazy. REVIEW my hard work. I live off of it, seriously. Reviews are sustenance for writers, especially fic-writers because it might be more profitable to work on something original that maybe I can one day sell than this. I write this because I like the story. I write this for practice. I write it for the reviews so I can get better. Please indulge me.

Temper the Soul

Chapter 12

By Zapenstap

Relena did not know when she fell asleep on her bed after crying, or how long she slept. When she woke, she felt groggy, heavy and a little panicked as to how much time she had lost in blissful forgetfulness. Falling asleep in her tears seemed too much like running away from her problems.

Despite her mood, when her eyes fluttered open and she regained her senses, the world smelled of summer. Sunlight streamed in through the windows, between the cracks in the curtains, creating streams and rivers of yellow light on the carpet and across the bed. Lying back on the pillows, Relena played with the airy blue summer dress she was wearing, tracing the vague and shadowing patterns of white flowers imprinted on the gauzy material over her mid-drift.

__

Heero…

It came like a continuing sigh in her head, like an echo across a lake or a continuing wave of rain over the countryside. 

She couldn't help imagining him with her, the way he might cuddle up beside her and touch her stomach with one hand, smoothing his palm over her abdomen, or kiss her shoulders and rub his face against them while those wayward locks of hair fell over his eyes. Her eyes drifted close as she thought of it. She might talk or joke while he moved to kiss her neck. Sometimes he would reply with throaty whispers in her ear. Maybe in the right mood he would sit up while she lay still to kiss her chin or her cheeks before tasting her lips. 

But he was gone.

She turned over on her side, hugging the pillow underneath her head, feeling something like a sick sinking in her stomach. A lump of distilled tears stuck in her throat. 

Whenever she had fought with Heero it was hard like this. They didn't fight often. Usually they could smooth emotional turmoil over with gentle kisses and soft words, actions that would escalate to passionate touches and then either explode or wind down into love-making. Afterwards, exhausted, satisfied and emotionally connected, everything was all right.

This was the first time they hadn't been able to use sex to fix a misunderstanding.

She rolled over on her stomach and settled her chin on the back of her hands, staring at the wall in quiet contemplation. Heero could say exactly what he meant cleanly and concisely. He could tell her he loved her even, but he still couldn't _just_ talk, especially about himself. Not for the first time she wondered if maybe she didn't know him as well as she thought she did. She felt him certainly, his soul, and she perceived the _way_ he thought about things, but there was so much she didn't know…

She had once asked him where he was born. A kiss was her response. At another time she had asked him if his training still affected the things he did. He had smiled at her and they had cuddled while he talked a little about the Wing Zero. But he never answered her question; he never talked about anything that had happened to him before they met. Respecting his privacy, she had eventually stopped asking, but….

Come to think of it, she didn't tell him much about her vapid and useless life before she met him either. She always felt it would tear them apart because it would highlight differences between them that had never mattered to her. But she knew they mattered to him. Whenever her status became important he would become quiet, almost as if he were only the shadow of a person while she was in the spotlight. He had never admitted to her that his life was valuable outside of her desire to keep him around. It wasn't that he was self-pitying or angry or jealous of her; he just naturally dismissed himself and slid into the shadows, into the undercurrents of her world. And after she stepped out of the spotlight he would attack her with a ferocious possession. She had given a speech the night before their last episode of love-making. 

It had been awhile since she had thought of him in context of being an ex-gundam pilot. It had been awhile since she had thought of the past, the simple honesty and dedication of their youth when all of their interactions revolved around some greater purpose than one another; lately it was all about her need for him. No, it was more like her need for his body, as a reminder of where his heart lay, but... Well, she had _tried_ to get him to talk. 

But he couldn't. Maybe their habits had done them a disservice. Maybe they substituted physical communication for intellectual communication. Maybe that's what Zechs meant by saying they went too fast, not because it was wrong to want Heero physically, but because it stunted the expectation to communicate in other ways.

But she still wanted him. And now he was gone.

Tears flowing up suddenly in her eyes, she collapsed her face into the bed with a sudden sob that ripped through the quiet of the room. The sunlight streaming over her bed angered her as her body shook with the need to divulge her unhappiness. Waves of emotional pain surged up her gut and leaked from her eyes in the form of hot tears soaking her pillow. She loved him _so_ much. She loved him. She wanted him. She missed the way he held her, the way his hands could smooth the hurt from her mind and body simply by stroking her hair. All the things she loved about him were too much to think about. They made her feel sick to her stomach even when things were good. All the reasons she loved him made her entire body ache to know him better. It mixed and molded with her physical desires to touch him and express how she felt, but they were separate things. Maybe she had not treated them separately enough. Maybe she had overcompensated one to satisfy the other.

Now she desperately wanted to talk to him, just talk. Words came to her mind in a babbling torrent, sticking to her throat. All the things she would say… All the things she would ask. And she would listen if he would talk. She knew he listened to her nonsense often enough. She imagined it, but all she could see was her touching him in a desire to understand. With every desiring thought she had to deepen her understanding of him came waves of desire to touch his body. But that was the easy way to feel him out, she knew. It was pleasurable to her and allowed him to indulge in her without working to express his thoughts with words. God, did he even think of it that way? Heero was a boy. Boys were said to want sex for sex and nothing more, to not naturally equate it with any kind of emotional understanding. But surely sometimes, with the right person…

Her hands clutched the covers on her bed as she cried, her body twisting to rid itself of its strange and horrible pain. Angry with herself, she sat up, weeping still, dashing hot salty tears from her eyes and trying slowly to calm herself down. At length she managed to swallow her tears. She hiccuped in the sudden silence and bit the back of her hand. She continued to hiccup anyway. 

A second flood of hurt and tears welled up in her gut as soon as the first wave was subdued and his face became clearer in her mind.

"I need to see you, Heero. Please come back to me," she breathed in a petitioning whisper, gasping to hold back her tears, wanting desperately to see him and talk to him again, wanting him to hold her. 

There was a sound like a door swinging shut behind her and she stopped moving, freezing on her bed with her bare legs sprawled about her, her hair mussed from her thrashing and her cheeks smeared with tears. 

"I have," Heero's voice came to her in the way he always spoke.

*****

Noin entered Zech's study without knocking. She peered back and forth and then raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "I thought I heard shouting down here."

"Heero," Zechs said. Nothing further need be said.

Her expression was almost amusing. "Zechs, what did you tell him?"

"Don't worry about it," he replied casually. 

She half-scowled and crossed her arms. "If by 'not worry' you mean to imply that you refused to allow him to even talk to Relena…."

Zechs shook his head. "I was hard on him, but that's not what happened."

She sighed. "Well, knowing him, you probably couldn't stop him anyway."

"Probably not."

"Well, what did he say?"

Zechs wasn't going to tell his wife what Heero said about wanting to marry Relena just yet. If he made good on his promise there would be time enough, though he had little doubt Heero would keep his word. He was hardly the sort to turn back down or not finish a task begun. Actually, he was quite impressed with him, on all levels, though it was not all that surprising considering whom Heero Yuy was. Still, what he had said needed to be said, to clarify his feelings and concerns if for no other reason. Let them be angry. At the least they would not be regretful. If Heero had his heart truly set on Relena, not the strictest demands or rebukes in the world would be able to dissuade him. Things being thus, as Relena's protector in this matter, he might as well demand much to get a little. And Relena could use a little chastising herself really. He had never expected her to react to the possibility of Heero's becoming disinterested in her by hitting him first and fleeing the country. And it seemed Heero had not grown disinterested at all. Zechs wished he had known that before, but there was no use worrying about it now. 

"Well," he said in answer to Noin's expecting silence. "I imagine they will try to work it out in a matter that will satisfy everyone."

"Are you kidding?" Noin said, leaning against the wall. "I can't see you _ever_ being satisfied by this."

"Noin," he said, looking at her with a close-lipped smile. "Trust me."

*****

He couldn't tear his eyes off of her. And he couldn't move. He hated it when she cried, when she shook with such sadness, especially on his account. It might seem natural to wish to wrap his arms about her and draw her close, but he could only stand there without expression and watch her cry.

Zechs hadn't shown Heero where to find her, or even allowed him the chance to look for her on his own. He practically had to sneak up here. Whatever Zechs believed, Heero meant to see Relena _now_. He needed to see her. Now that he was here, he felt somewhat like an invader, an unwelcome visitor, but he supposed there was no reason why he should feel otherwise. At least he wasn't stopped.

When she called him to come back to her he was stunned. Why had she left, if this was the result?

"I have."

She turned her head, her hair flying in wisps about a face streaked with tears. From the look in her eyes, it seemed she didn't believe what she was seeing, but it was those gorgeous, sad, sad eyes that propelled him into motion. He took a few steps toward her, but her voice halted him.

"Heero." The word fell off her bottom lip and hung in the air like the last note in a ballad. 

He stood perfectly still. 

"Hmm." He lowered his eyes to find his strength, his hands clenched at his sides. When he raised his head again, she had swung her pretty slim legs and shapely feet off the edge of the bed and was scrubbing tears from her cheeks.

"What are you doing here?" she choked, and though she had been crying his name a moment before, she now looked a little angry. It wrung his heart. Had she not just asked him to return? But he supposed what she imagined in private and what happened in reality were different things. Of course she would still be angry, to protect herself if for no other reason.

"I have something to ask you," he said, standing only a little ways from her now. "And some other things to tell you first."

She turned her face away from him, the hands on her lap too still not to be controlled. "What makes you think you can just come back here like this?" she said quietly. She still refused to look at him. "We broke up. I meant all the things I said, Heero."

"Yeah, but it's not that easy. I love you. You need to let me explain."

She was silent for a moment, staring at her feet. He couldn't help but wonder what she was thinking, in what circles her mind was running. She needed to let him explain. "Heero," she said slowly. "I asked you then to explain and you turned me away."

"I know. It was bad timing, Relena. That thing with Damion and all the things I have to say to you made it hard…"

Her eyes flashed and he started, stepping backward as he head whipped around in suddenly fury. "Too hard to explain to me?" she implored. "To speak to me? Heero! I threw my heart at your feet and you pushed me away!"

He took deep breaths and felt his body relaxing into the sort of emotional void that surrounded him during battle. Every gesture, ever shift in her tone came to him as battle data, and he knew his own face was perfectly flat, his own gestures non-existent. It was like a shield that he put up to protect him from the enemy, to keep his emotions out of the conflict. But she wanted his emotions. She wanted him to express himself. No, they were not going to fight now. He wanted to tell her… he had to move quickly or he would lose her again! "I'm jealous!" he seethed finally, breaking out of the void in desperation, trying to express what he was feeling beneath the layers of control and dispassion. "I'm very possessive of you, Relena. I _love_ you. You told me you kissed another man, and Damion! He's a friend and an old attraction of yours. How could you expect me to just take news like that and ask you to marry me in the same breath?" There, he said it, sort of.

"Damion's _your_ friend? Please, Heero! As if you know anything about him other than that he's rich and powerful and used to date me. Do you even _care_ what he's going through?"

Did she not hear him? His emotions were loose now. Loose and too wild to be locked up again. "Damn it, Relena. I don't want to talk about Damion! Just forget about that." He tried to calm himself, to petition her again. He did not want to shout. He was trembling all over. _Marry me, Relena. Didn't you hear me? Please…_ "I don't care about the kiss anymore anyway, okay? I'm trying to talk to you about us."

She was up off the bed and in his face in and instant, angry and aggressive. "Yeah, we _should_ talk!" she cried at him, hitting his chest with the flat of her hand. "Why did you treat me like you treated me? What do you _want _from me? Why can't you accept that you deserve my love and…?" He caught the wrist of the hand that had assaulted him gently, staring at her, trying to communicate with his eyes what he was feeling, the waves of feeling that assaulted his senses, confused him, and the level practicality with which he now embraced it. She seemed to be melting, swaying toward him. She stopped suddenly, staring at him with eyes that swam with sudden and overpowering emotion. "What did you say?" she whispered in unbelieving tones. "A…a minute ago, about…?"

He shut his eyes. He had wanted to petition her in love and submission, but… "I've been struggling lately, Relena, with what you mean to me and where we're going."

She didn't say anything but her other hand flew to her face and over her mouth in sudden realization. She _had_ heard him.

"I want to make you my wife," he said slowly, gesturing vaguely with the hand that did not gently encircle her slender wrist. "I don't know exactly what that means, but I know I want to take care of you forever and I know I have the fortitude to do it…if you'll have me." He released her and closed his eyes, awaiting her verdict in breathless silence.

Cool, trembling hands touched his face. He opened his eyes as she stepped into him and raised herself on her toes to reach his face, her expression almost awe-struck. Snapping back into reality, he wrapped his arms about her back and pulled her up to him, kissing her deeply and expressively. It was incredible. He had done nothing but dream of holding her, kissing her, loving her, since she had gone.

When she pulled away, she did not go far. Inches from his, her eyes were blue-green, alight with color like the waters of a lagoon, and they moved back and forth as they searched his face. She trembled still in his arms. "God, Heero, do you mean it?"

"Yeah," he said. "I do. That's what I've been thinking about, why it was so hard to talk to you before…" he took a deep breath, grasping both of her hands. "Relena, this isn't the way I had envisioned it. I don't have a ring yet. I'm not sure your brother even believes my intentions are true." He brushed hair from her face, tucking loose strands behind her ears. "But I know I love you. I may not be fully prepared, but… Relena, you need to give me an answer."

She looked so bewildered as her hands grasped his head gently, swiping wayward locks of brown hair out of his eyes. "Oh, Heero, I love you and I would be glad to marry you, but…" He trembled, swallowing. 

"But…?"

"Heero, I feel like I don't know anything about you."

He caressed the small of her back and let his hands run around her hips, feeling strangely cold and distant. "You know more about me than anyone," he said, pulling his head out of her hands as he looked down at the floor.

She caught his face again, pulling his eyes back to look at her. "I know. Don't look away, Heero. I just want to know everything about you. I just want to be sure this is what you want, that you're prepared to let me into your life." 

He smiled. "Do you know what I want?" he asked.

"No," she said softly.

"Do you know why I love you?"

She looked down, her hands falling to his chest and digging into his shirt. "No," she replied.

"After the last time we made love I had a dream," he said. As he said it, he saw them in her mirror on the side of the room, him holding her with eyes hard and cold as marbles, expression flat as a board. In contrast, she was looking at him with such tenderness, such love and desire that it made his heart beat painfully.

"I dreamed of you," he continued when she only looked at him in puzzlement. "It was during the war and I was a soldier again." He was desperate, cold and arrogant, without care for anyone. "Your spirit…sparkled, and all I did was seduce you."

"Was I the Queen of the World?" she asked quietly, almost amused, as if this were a game he was playing with her. But he also felt she was trying to get at something. "Was I the representative of Romafeller again, rich and powerful, attempting the impossible ideals of world peace?"

He pushed her back until her legs hit her bed, trapping her. He stared into her eyes. "No," he said with more urgency. "You were ordinary wearing your old school uniform. You were just fascinating and confusing and beautiful."

She stared at him, mouth slightly agape.

"You weren't as beautiful then as you are now," he said quietly. "Not that I appreciated beauty then. Relena, do you remember what it was like?"

"Yes," she breathed, and he felt her fingers squeeze his hands. He wanted to pull her close and hold her, but he had more to say. "I can't describe how I felt about you then. You were just a mysterious boy, but there was something… I felt like I had known you my whole life."

Releasing one of her hands, he brushed a strand of hair from her forehead. "I thought nothing of you for a long time," he said harshly, honestly. She pulled back from him, stunned and trembling, but he tightened his grip on her hand so she could not escape. "I meant to kill you." He knew his eyes must be terrifying.

"It's against your nature," she gasped. "Heero, you're a _good_ person."

"You always thought so. I couldn't destroy you in either case."

"Why not? You cared nothing for me?"

"Nothing," he said, but he lowered his eyes. "I never thought much about girls, Relena. I was a soldier and I came to the Earth to die."

Her eyes softened and she touched his face, stroking his cheek. "I know," she said with such understanding. Her expression was so sweet, so innocent and beautiful, such a thing to fight and live for. "I've known."

"You're the strangest person I've ever known," he continued. "I always thought I was the only one like myself, so intense, so dedicated. But then I met you and it was like the world turned upside every time you opened your mouth, echoing me. Whatever we set out to do gets done, you know. For me that was always the efficient completion of any task, and if possible, the equal efficient completion of my life. But I never died. But you, for you there was always something more. Your spirit was kind like mine, but a dazzling ordinary, set on reviving and enflaming whatever beauty existed around you. You believed in goodness more strongly than I ever have."

"Heero…" she said with the soft glimmer of tears in her eyes, grasping both his hands again. "You're wrong. I was a flower in a tempest pretending to be a wall of stone. You were…"

"Don't stop me," he cut her off, knowing her thought before she said it. "I've never thought I was beautiful. I always considered myself the means to other people's end. But you were interested in _me_. You said you were on my side. No one has _ever_ said anything like that to me before. You went out of your way to learn things about me. It was unsettling. You made me nervous. But it was air in a closed room. I danced with you because you asked me, but I had never danced with anyone before. The things you knew…"

He shook his head at the memories._ "I know too much about you, Heero. Are you still gonna destroy me?" _Her father had just died and she proposed to dance with the man who promised to assassinate her.

"And I couldn't kill you," he said in a soft voice, caressing the side of her face, pushing her hair behind her ears in almost a frenzy to touch her. "I tried several times. Did you know that?" 

"I would have let you," she said. "If I were the last."

He shook his head at her, unable to breathe or swallow. He was shaking all over; every nerve as taut as the skin over a kettledrum. "How can you say that?" he exclaimed. That was so frustrating. "I thought when I first met you that you were the delicate, refined, lady-like type to faint at the site of blood, and then you threw yourself before guns and stood under threat of flame and fire. You would die with a smile on your face." 

She stared at him. "Heero…"

Pulling her tight against his body, he clung to her, feeling every part of her pressed against him. She clove to him without protest, like she belonged there. Smoothing her hair and kissed her forehead gently, fighting to control his desires, his passions, his love for this strange creature that seemed to be put on Earth and in his life just for him. And she held herself tightly to him, willingly, greedily almost, but with a soft gentleness that made him want to claim her all the more forcefully. What was wrong with him?

"Heero?" she questioned in almost a bleating tone as he crushed her more tightly into him, fingers curling and clawing into her clothes. He laid his head sideways on top of hers, feeling her hair against his cheeks and felt tears leak from his eyes. "Heero, I can't see you," she murmured into his chest.

"I wish I could make you part of me," he said hoarsely, "like I could absorb you into me." He kissed her again, feeling his sexuality stir at their proximity, "but I don't want to absorb you until you disappear, I just…." He hugged her until he felt her struggle against his chest for lack of air. Easing up, he kissed the top of her head again. "I can't explain it."

"I feel the same way, Heero," she mumbled into his neck, hot air on his skin. "I love you so deeply." He closed his eyes, reveling in those words so strongly and sincerely spoken. "That's what the sex is about for me," she continued, trailing how fingers along his collarbone, "when it's good and meaningful and passionate." She lifted her head, staring up at him with eyes full of tears that shimmered like the sparkle of so many stars. "I know it so well when we love like that. I understand so much."

"I feel terrible," he choked, squeezing his eyes shut, shaking. "I feel like I abused something that could have been beautiful before I really understood it. Relena," he looked down at her, "I've always loved you, but not always like this. I remember the first time I desired you. I loved you then and you filled me with fire, but I didn't understand what it was I wanted from you except the way I imagined your body would make me feel. That's why I refused you so many times. I was trying to decide what you really meant to me."

She was quiet then, plucking at the buttons on his shirt. 

"It's okay," he amended. "It's wonderful and I enjoy it. It is all I had imagined, but Zechs is right in a way. Having that, my feelings for you grew stagnant. I focused so much on our pleasing each other physically I think I forgot how I truly felt about you. You almost became a different person in my eyes. I became a different person. I didn't think about the past or the future or how we were changing. I saw you as this unattainable vision that was suddenly mine and then everything that was real dissolved or became displaced. I don't know if it was really wrong to love you as I have, because God it felt so right, but it couldn't have lasted forever like that." He brushed his knuckles over the smoothness of her cheek. "I know it's too late, but I think, and I _know_ Zechs does, that we should take time off of focusing on our bodies. I love you, and I think I understand now the desire I have for you, but I want to show others and myself that I _can_ wait for you, and it won't be long."

"Heero, that's hard," she choked

"I know," he said simply, "but it's the only way I can redeem myself in the eyes of your family. Relena, you mean more to me than sexual pleasure."

"I need to touch you." 

It was intoxicating that she desired him so much and it made that much more difficult. "You can still hold me," he said, brushing a finger against her lips and looking into her eyes. "I don't know what I would do if I couldn't hold you."

Closing her eyes, she half-stepped, half-fell forward into his embrace, wrapping her arms around his middle and burying her head into his chest. On a whim, he picked her up. She gasped as he swung her around and pulled them both haphazardly onto the bed. Perhaps it wasn't the safest place, considering his declaration, but it was the easiest way to lay beside her, wrap his arms about her and entwine his legs with hers as intimately as he would allow. Once thus entangled, they lay perfectly still. Her scent made his head buzz and his eyelids heavy, and she was quite beautiful both to look at and to touch just lying there. This was going to be really hard.

"I promise," he said into her ear. "As soon as I can buy you a ring I will. It might only take two, three months maybe, or less. I'll work construction during the day and be on reserves for Preventor missions. Lady Une will understand."

Relena turned her head on the pillow and kissed him, softly and non-seductively. Even so it sent thrills through him, such personal contact, and he was silent with her face so close to his, feeling the soft wetness of her lips on his. When she broke away they were left staring at each other, bare inches between them. He could see every imperfection in her face, ever line of care and worry and did not care at all. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. "I'll wait for however long it takes, Heero," she said, and reached up to caress his face. "As long as you're sure."

"Start planning the wedding now," he told her. "I'll have that diamond for you soon, if I have to starve in the mean time. And I will see you often. We will do things together, and talk about things, or just sit around if you like."

She was silent a moment, staring at him, and abruptly sat up. Her hair swept over and then off of the pillow, blowing out like a curtain before coming back to hang around her face and shoulders, clinging with static. The movement was so sudden it caught him by surprise, and he sat up with her, reaching out to touch her shoulder gently. When he made contact she stood up out of his reach and walked across the room toward the window, looking out over the gardens with one hand on the wall inside the window frame.

"Relena?" he asked. "What are you thinking. Did I say something wrong?"

"No," she said, shaking her head. "I'm so happy, it's just…."

"Relena, what?"

"What I said before."

His heart raced, galloping in his chest like a horse. He swung his legs off the bed and stood up, crossing the room in three long strides. He meant to trap her against the wall and kiss the uncertainties out of her vocabulary, but just thinking of that made him hot with desire, and maybe he should hear what she had to say. So he stopped, and waited expectantly, praying it was nothing he couldn't handle.

"Heero," she said, lowering her eyes. "I'm tired of guessing all the time."

"I love you," he said immediately. "I will always tell you what I am thinking and feeling if that's what you need."

"Thank you," she said, "that helps, but…"

He waited breathlessly.

"I know who you are, Heero, but I want to know about your past, about the things you never talk about, your training and your dreams, and…"

"I'll tell you," he said quickly, though a black ball of anxiety settled in his stomach. It was getting harder to breathe. "I'll tell you everything, anything you want to know. Just… give me a little time to think about it, how to say it. I don't know some things and I don't remember others."

There was so much emotion on her face it was difficult to handle. He wanted to retreat from the concern there, the caring and love that almost overwhelmed him. He swung his gaze away, looking at anything but her. "Heero," she cried, reaching out. "Don't turn away! Please. I love you. Nothing you tell me will make me love you less!"

He stiffened his knees. "I know," he said, both to reassure himself and her. 

She bit her lip. When she spoke, she said the strangest, most incomprehensible thing he had ever heard. "Tell me you love yourself. Before I agree to plan a wedding, tell me you love yourself and you know you're worthy of me."

He couldn't reply. She came at him, close to him again, touching his neck and the skin around his eyes and mouth with cool, frantic fingers. He closed his eyes, grabbing her hand. "Please, Relena," he said.

"_Tell_ me," she cried, her hand curling into a fist. "I love you so much. Tell me my love isn't misplaced in your mind."

He couldn't even say that. That would mean admitting he was worthy of it. All he wanted was for her to _allow_ him to take care of her forever. He couldn't speak.

She kissed him suddenly, passionately this time, clutching his shirt around his sides and pulling her body close to his until he was on fire from head to toe. His arms wrapped around her automatically. He could feel her moving against him as she paid loving attention to his face, her body rubbing up against his, and the friction was driving him crazy. "Relena, stop," he protested into her mouth. It was the hardest thing he had ever had to say. God he wanted to touch her. "Stop doing that. You're making me lose control." He tried to school his hands from feeling her up, tried to tame his mind from wanting her to start removing his clothes and relieve him of what she was doing to his body. 

She broke away, breathing hard through her mouth. "I want you so much," she gasped, "because I love you so much. Tell me I'm not a fool to feel this way!"

"I love you," he said raggedly, still burning and cooling down slowly. 

"I know. But that isn't all I want to hear. I don't want you to be arrogant, Heero, but I do want you to believe you're worthy of me, to believe in yourself. Or else how can I, can we… I mean…"

That was sobering. He swallowed, weighing her words and their implications. She waited patiently, as if just expecting him to be able to blurt it out after a moment's thought. "Give me a little time," he said earnestly instead. "I'll think on it."

She looked positively stricken. "Heero…" she breathed, as if just realizing how completely incapable he was of telling her what she wanted to hear. She swallowed, hands stroking his neck again. "I always suspected, but I never really knew…"

He closed his eyes. "I believe in myself," he said. "I make decisions I believe are correct and I act on them."

"But do you love yourself?"

"I don't really know."

"All right," she said in barely a whisper. "I would love to marry you, Heero Yuy. I would love to build a home with you and a family. But I need to know you love yourself, that you would love any children you and I might have together," she looked down when she said that, blushing, and he swallowed. "That you would take care of me knowing that you deserve to for you and not just because I say you can."

"Okay," he said. "I understand. I'll try. "

Tears welled up in her eyes as she looked down at her feet. Feeling like he had broken a spell, he put his arms around her, hugging her. She lifted her arms around his neck and hugged back, kissing his cheek. He swayed with her, rocking them both almost like a dance, eyes open as he breathed in and out, rubbing her back with his hands. Then they stood perfectly still, locked together in a position of warmth and care. He didn't want to let go.

He'd never felt this much love, had never dreamed it existed. She would marry him and be his forever, body and soul, if he could buy her a ring and confess love…for himself. He was equally elated and traumatized. What did it mean to love himself? 

"I should go," he said quietly into her hair. 

She nodded, stepping reluctantly out of his embrace. "Take care of yourself, Heero. For me."

He smiled and brushed a lock of hair from her eyes. "If that's what you want." She smiled at him as he turned again and headed toward the door. "I'll see you soon."

"Okay," she said, folding her hands in front of her. "Don't make me wait too long."

She didn't mean about seeing her. "I won't," he said.

"Remember what you promised me," she called after him as he walked out of the room.

"I will," he said, just loud enough for her to hear. He had promised a ring, and to feel worthy enough to give it to her. It was his strangest mission, and one he both yearned and dreaded to complete. But she would be his wife. He missed her already, like he had left a part of himself behind somewhere.

When he walked out into the hall he saw Zechs cross through another hallway, but they stopped and stared at one another. Heero kept his expression constant, but he couldn't hide the light of triumph from his eyes. After a moment, Zechs smiled, nodded at him and kept walking.

Yes, this is a lot of sap. I promised. Anyway, remember to review now that you've gotten this far. Why not? It only takes a second. Coming up in the next chapters: As Heero struggles with his identity, Damion learns something unexpected about Audrey and her past.


	13. Words in the Street

Temper the Soul

Chapter 13

By zapenstap

__

One month later, late summer/early fall

The buzz of voices receded into the back of his ear as Manny parted from his parents, younger brother, older sister and a variety of extended relatives who gathered together for Sunday morning Church service. He shook his head at his father's invitation to join him and a friend at one of the tables for conversation, which would probably gravitate around Damion, palace affairs, politics, the weather or Terese to stay in habit, but anything was open. He smiled, though. Laughing at something unrelated to his son, his father nodded, waved and turned back to his friend as Manny began to walk outside.

"Manny!"

Manny stopped before the open double doors of the Church at the sound of Pastor Howel's voice hailing him from the sanctuary following the Sunday service. Smiling, he waited for the middle-aged pastor to join him and hear what he had to say.

"Manny," Howel began again in an inquiring tone, crossing his arms even in the clerical robes he always wore for early Sunday morning services. 

"Yeah?" he asked, smiling in welcome for the man who had been his pastor for the last ten years in this Church. They had talked before so his being stopped was nothing unusual. Paster Howel knew all the regulars and Manny and his family was a natural source of information for anything having to do with the palace, the government or other interesting news. Manny himself was currently the closest link to political affairs, especially anything concerning Prince Regent Damion, which people were always curious about, much to his amusement. "What is it?" 

But the pastor surprised him today. "There was a young man who stopped by here about a month ago to return some books and manuscripts your young master had borrowed. Is he a friend of the Ravineere family? I saw him in the background with Prince Damion on a re-run television clip of Jacob Ravineere's funeral not too long ago. He's a pensive, dark sort of person, looks to be at least partially Asian in features and coloring?"

For a moment, he was baffled, but then it came to him. "Oh," he said in sudden realization. "Yeah, that's probably Heero. He just came up for the occasion. He left a good month ago. You talked to him?"

Pastor Howel looked perplexed. "He seemed upset about his girlfriend. Do you know if he ever worked it out? He seemed very intense about the whole thing."

Manny put a hand behind his head, rubbing his neck. "Um, he's always kind of like that, I guess. I don't know him very well personally, but I know that when he left it was the intention of getting back together with her. Master Damion's been really busy with things lately and hasn't really filled me in with much correspondence from the outside. It seems kinds of strange to me that he talked to you."

Pastor Howel nodded uncertainly, his eyes troubled. "Back together, huh?" He shook his head, blinking his eyes. "Yes, I thought it was strange too, but I had hoped it might have done him some good. He seemed quite confused. I would have liked to talk with him again but he never came back. Very strange and withdrawn individual he seemed to me, but quite bright I think. I meant to ask you about it earlier, but I just wasn't sure."

Yeah, that sounded like what he knew of Heero, but he really didn't know any details about his relationship with Relena or how it was going now. "I wish I could help," he said with more defeat than he liked.

Paster Howel sighed. "Thanks anyway, Manny. How is Terese?"

"She's good," he said with a smile. Well, as good as could be expected.

He actually couldn't even define the state of his relationship with her currently, other than that they were together still. But he obviously had no idea what he wanted ultimately and he didn't think she did either. Of course, they had discussed their relationship before. Often as a result of those talks they had agreed to back down a bit, take things slow for awhile, sort out their commitments to life and family and God and themselves. Once they had agreed to take a break from sleeping together too, but then the next night they had fallen into bed with doubled desire and urgency. The following few weeks had been some of the most passionate and satisfying (sexually and emotionally) in all their time together. There were other times that they had decided to be more serious and discuss more of their personal needs and desires and had ended up only fighting constantly. And then there was the time when they decided to see other people and maybe just be friends with benefits. But during that term they ended up sharing some of their most guarded secrets and falling more in love than they ever had been before. He had no idea where they were now. More casual lately with all the craziness in Damion's life, which affected their work and their moods. All the wedding stuff was awkward too. With Terese practically planning the wedding, he _knew_ she was thinking about marriage and it made him jumpy. He loved her, but he didn't want to get married, and he knew she knew that. She even once said that she felt the same way, but girls were so oddly roundabout with what they were actually thinking he wasn't sure whether or not he believed her. But all in all, things were good.

Pastor Howell smiled at him and he realized he must look a little spaced out and foolish. He frequently felt he must look that way. Since there seemed nothing more to say, Manny flushed, smiled, and turned again to go.

Pastor Howel stopped him briefly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Manny, one last thing. I know you're doing all right, but tell your Master Damion he ought to drop by once and awhile." Manny blinked at him and the pastor smiled. "I know. I know. I know who he is and perhaps I ought not to speak so casually, but I've known both your families for a long time, Manny; I watched you grow up together. Tell Damion I haven't seen his face in a long time and I know his mother worries about him. She thinks staying in the palace all day stifles him."

"Sure," he said quietly, a little surprised. "I know. He'll tell me he's too busy but I'll remind him."

Pastor Howel nodded kindly and went back inside. Manny turned to go the other way. 

Once outside, the sounds of the city during the day caught him and he began walking down the street. Sundays were his day off if he wanted them and there was nothing urgent to be done at the palace, but he had no plans today. He thought he might just as well go back to the palace to do some work, spend some time with Terese or catch up on sleep if she was busy and there was nothing to do. On the way he stopped at a little shop on the corner of the intersection to buy a glass of lemonade and caught the voices of two men and two women sitting outside at a nearby restaurant, discussing Damion and Audrey. In breezy dresses and decorated hats, the women laughed lightly as their male companions smiled and nodded, all of them sitting about a polished white marble table in a fenced-off eating area to a restaurant with a good (and expensive) reputation. 

"I heard," one of the women said in an amused tone, "that he's quite the innocent little thing and she this sophisticated woman from the country. I heard she absolutely despises him."

"Oh, no," the other girl countered with a slight shake of her dark curls. "See, you've never seen him. He's quite handsome and very nice. But I heard she is obstinate and selfish and a downright whore."

"Oh, you're kidding?"

"Well, it wouldn't surprise me. Isn't that the way it always is?"

"I would say not! I heard just the opposite. I heard she's sweet and quiet, that she was secluded in the country her whole life, and that he's this obnoxious, arrogant and aggressive..."

"You shouldn't say such things about the prince!" the brunette with the curls exclaimed. "He's a well-mannered man, I tell you. She's the cheating slut. I hear she schemes and tells lies too."

One of the men scoffed. "Like all women!"

The brunette elbowed him in some indignation and both men fell silent, exchanging amused glances between them.

Her friend chuckled. "I'm sure they're both equally bad. He does keep the company of that Julia woman after all, and nobody refutes the stories about _her_. Have you heard about her? No? Well, they say they've known each other since childhood and she's a regular prostitute. I mean really, an influence like that, what would you expect? As for first choice, well they say she's from the country. Of course she would take any guy she could get after all that isolation. I don't see what the big deal is, there."

"How about the tradition that first choice is supposed to be a virgin when she marries the prince just like in a fairy tale?" one of the men snickered condescendingly. The woman slapped him on the arm in an annoyed fashion but he only made a face at her.

The brunette crossed her arms. "Be that as it may, I hear that she drinks and sleeps with strangers, or did before she was forced to marry _him_, and now she just pretends to be this angelic thing. It's not like anybody _knows_ her, so I guess she can get away with anything."

Manny shook his head, paid for his lemonade and walked away. He'd heard all of this gossip before, mostly from upper middle class prigs not quite high enough on the social scale to have any real connections with the royal family or the relations of the council lords. The things they said made him want to laugh. It also made him angry, or indignant, but it wasn't really his place to interfere with such idle gossip. Few people knew or understood who he was to Damion anyway. People had been trying to figure out Damion's love life since before he was old enough to have one, but Manny had seen all of Damion's crushes, love interests and idle flirtations over the years. In their earlier days there might have been more to such rumors, after an adolescent fashion, but less from Damion than from the average fourteen-year-old boy. The difference with Damion was that he was a prince and at that age it hadn't taken much to discover that his title was something of a commodity when it came to girls. Such undertakings never amounted to all that much though, not when Damion's parents found out about it. Well, they had expected it and been prepared. After his sense of moral responsibility settled in, Damion's genuine interest in girls was rare. But when he was really interested he behaved like a gentleman. 

His maturity and expectations for his love life changed over the years. There had been that one shop girl with absolutely no family or connections whatsoever that had captivated him when he was barely sixteen and trying to run away from his heritage. He had never told her who he was and, if Manny remembered correctly, nothing much came of it, especially when her family moved. There had also been Relena, but everyone knew how that turned out. Damion was more responsible and possessed of what was expected of him by then, but not truly understanding what that meant for his personal love life. His parents hadn't the heart to tell him. But after Clara Veron died, the original first choice, they sat down and talked with him about the traditions of the court in regards to his personal life. Damion had come to Manny (as usual) with the news that he was going to have to marry some strange girl, whoever the Council decided was first choice, a marriage designed to benefit the stability of the state. He would have to marry first choice unless there was some serious reason why he should not. If Audrey actually had been a wanton, drunken slut, that would probably have done it, but however people gossiped, that just wasn't so. So Damion was stuck. He had been pensive and angry for awhile, then settled into his usual resigned optimism. Damion was the rare, giving sort of man, possessed of a natural genuine nicety even Manny couldn't match on his best days. But this was hard for him.

When he was a kid, outside of his required reading, Damion used to read epic tales, mixing war and love until his head spun with overly dramatic ideas. He knew they were overly dramatic of course; he was too sensible not to, but he still had always believed strongly in a sort of fantasy romance. Manny supposed everybody did on some level, but Damion did everything right. With Terese, Manny had never tried to follow any ideal; he just did what his body and heart seemed to indicate would satisfy them both. It seemed to work all right, though it was confusing. But after his early adolescent years, Damion tried to be everything opposite from the rich, priggish, chauvenistic sex-crazed male some people expected him to be and follow a nobler path. He bided his time and guarded his heart. He did it all for that one girl he hoped to love one day. 

And then he became Prince Regent. He lost his father and before he could grieve the Council Lords began having fits about the instability of the royal court. The royal family was well loved by the people. Now Damion and his widowed mother were all that was left of it. Damion was well loved by the people. Everyone commented on how refreshingly kind and good-hearted Damion was as the Prince of Taravren. When his father died, everything seemed much more complicated. Damion knew he needed a wife as much as the Council Lords, to help him with his responsibilities if for no other reason. He also knew he had little choice in the matter, but it was a courtesy to invite all eligible girls, especially if something was wrong with first choice. But nothing was wrong with Audrey, save that she was a touch too serious for Damion if Manny had any opinion, almost seemingly unhappy, but Damion had taken to her and that was all that mattered.

She had been staying in the palace for over a month now. There was no denying that she was beautiful, but she seemed sad a lot of the time, withdrawn. Manny watched his master research her in fascination and dedication, trying to thaw that shield of ice she drew up about her person. She seemed entirely unlike Damion, and indeed, even seemed surprised by him. If Damion was incapable of accepting marriage on cold, practical terms, it did not seem to bother her. Manny feared (and he knew Damion did too) that she might even prefer to wed without emotional strings, to be an exalted sort of servant, a receptacle in sex, a clerical secretary in work, but Damion was wroth to allow it. He kept working her with tenderness, searching for something Manny couldn't see clearly, a sort of buried quality in her soul that would allow her to laugh and be happy like other girls, to receive marriage as a reward for love. It wasn't that she was insensitive or even depressed, but she did not give much. Damion said it was like pulling teeth to get feeling from her kisses and harder work to get her to talk, but when he succeeded, it was like he could scarcely breathe for the rush of feeling. 

Manny could tell that Damion was beginning to love her. Oh, in those first few days he had taken an amusing attraction and obsession with her, but the past two months he had doted on her like nothing ever before in his life. Without perhaps meaning to he was loving her. Manny remembered when once Damion sat on a chair in his room, staring at the wall with this strange expression on his face. "How can a man not love what he spends so much time and attention on?" he said, "I feel her, Manny, somewhere inside, I can _feel_ her." Manny didn't know what to say, but he understood that Damion was frustrated. She wouldn't let him touch her or hold her like he wanted, and their conversations were becoming awkward with all the things left unsaid. It didn't help that Damion was becoming inflamed with desire for her. That he was forbidden to touch her both by law and her own self-possession only made it worse. Damion didn't talk about it, but Manny could sense it well enough to know. Damion wanted his future wife sexually as well as emotionally and it was driving him half-mad because he couldn't tell if she had any real affection for him at all. The wedding date was already planned and drawing nearer. Damion knew exactly how much time he had, about four months, and then he would marry her, and sleep with her, whether she cared for him or not.

Of course Audrey liked Damion. Everybody could tell she did. And most people liked her, including Manny himself. She smiled for Damion like she smiled for nobody else, and she seemed to enjoy spending time with him, but whatever else went on in her head was unclear. It was like she was afraid to trust herself to love him, or trust him to love her. And as if her emotional guards weren't enough, she wouldn't yield physically either. She claimed to be complacent about physical copulation after the wedding, but Damion said she tensed whenever he touched her, sometimes starting out his grasp and physically moving away from him when he tried to hold her. It broke his heart, but he didn't let her know. He just went on with things, backing down and starting over again more gently. Damion said she always apologized. Manny could tell that Audrey _wanted_ to please Damion, that she understood what he wanted, recognized that it would be good for her too, but for some reason she couldn't give him what he wanted and she couldn't accept what he offered.

When Manny arrived back at the palace, he began searching for Damion or Terese. There were a bazillion things that needed to be done today, and he would do them even though it was his day off. He had always believed that working hard was important to developing good character and it made him feel good to have everything done before he was asked to do it. Damion rarely ever had to ask for anything anymore, unless it was just some spur of the moment favor. One day he would like to do the same for Audrey, but it didn't feel right at this time. 

*****

Summer was fading into fall, but in the Cinq Kingdom, it was one of the loveliest times of the year. Shoes off and feet bare, Relena sat in the grass beneath the spreading branches of a tree, clothed in a peach-colored dress with a gauzy and flowing skirt hiked above her knees. She had her head leaning against Heero's chest, sitting behind her with his back to the tree. His legs were propped up to either side of her, his arms circled around her waist and an open book propped open on her lap, held in his hand. He had stopped reading to her, though. The shade of the tree had moved to the other side. They were now bathed in sunlight and he had stopped speaking, eyes closed, just holding her as they soaked up the heat from the sunlight.

"Heero," she murmured quietly, feeling his chest rise and fall behind her head as he breathed. She could also hear his heart beating and nothing made her so happy as to listen to it while he held her like this. "How close are you?"

"I already told you," he half-laughed, probably still with his eyes closed. "I'm not going to tell you when. I want it to be a surprise."

She sighed. "Does that mean you're close?"

His right hand caressed her stomach. "Not quite. Why don't you just relax and sleep with me?"

He meant take a nap under the tree and stop harassing him. She groaned at his jest, half-turning to bury her head in his shirt. "Don't _say_ that. It's torture." He chuckled, playing with her hair.

It was better now than it had been at first. When he first started seeing her again after returning, she had to use an iron will to keep from encouraging him to break his resolution. That first week she had wanted him so badly they had to keep their time together short. After awhile it became easier and now they were able to cuddle again. She didn't regret this decision; it wasn't hurting either of them and she was learning so much about herself and him just from having to tame her desires, but it was certainly a challenge. 

To her delight, Zechs sat her down and gave her his full support for her decision to be with Heero. He also welcomed Heero personally and without reservation, treating them like a couple, which was thrilling in its own way. Zechs was still obviously keeping a very watchful eye on them, but Relena felt as if her brother had relinquished his hold on her, like she had already been given to Heero, save for the ceremony that would make it official and legal and binding. 

Noin was helping her plan a wedding. Relena wanted a small, private wedding for the people she knew best, but Noin wasn't sure she could get away with it. At the very least, Relena made Noin promise they wouldn't notify the press until after the wedding, where she would answer any questions. All of her planning in any case felt odd, like counting her chickens before they hatched since Heero didn't have a ring for her yet, but she didn't want to wait. As it was, she would be getting married in April or May at the earliest, four or five months after the date Damion was supposed to marry Audrey. 

But she didn't want to stress herself out today. 

"Heero," she murmured, tilting her head to look up into his face. "Tell me again about your mother."

He swept hair from her forehead with his thumb as she closed her eyes, settling deeper against him. "I told you I don't remember really," he whispered. "Just impressions mostly, a few memories from when I must have been really small."

"She must have loved you."

"Yeah," he said quietly, and she knew he was staring at nothing again. 

"Heero?"

"I don't really know," he said. "I don't remember much. I don't remember my father at all. I don't think I ever saw him."

She was quiet. Heero said he believed both of his parents were dead, but he didn't know how they died. He remembered being in a Federation hospital and being told that his mother was dead. There had been confusion in the room and in his mind. There had been Federation soldiers who were unkind to him, insensitive. After the news about his mother, he just left, four-years-old and with no where to go. He remembered wandering around on the streets for a time. He said strangers took him in when they discovered he was an orphan, nice people who tried to discover who he was, but like a stray cat he never stayed long enough to be picked up by social workers. He just kept wandering around. Families who found him would feed him and let him rest in their homes. In gratitude he would do nice things for them, or things a four or five-year-old child thought was nice. But the minute he saw anyone get on the phone to call about him, or get in a car, he would find a way to leave. He didn't want to go back to the hospital. He didn't want to be "settled" by the Federation troops, who often handled such things. He became good at escaping, in being quiet, in listening for information and interpreting people's thoughts.

"I think I kept expecting my mother to find me when I was wandering," he said quietly. "I didn't want to go back to the hospital. I didn't want strangers to tell me my mother was dead again, so I just took care of myself until she could come back. Maybe I thought I was walking home too; I don't really remember. Eventually, wandering became routine. I got used to sleeping wherever, taking care of myself. People in the colonies were kind, but no one came to look for me and I didn't expect them to. After awhile I didn't need anyone. But I hated the Federation. They were not kind to anyone and I think I started to wonder if maybe it was the Federation that had taken away my parents. But I don't actually know how they died."

Feeling so sad, she rolled onto her side and snuggled into him, wrapping her arms around her waist. He smiled as he looked down at her and pushed her hair off her shoulders so he could touch them.

"I remember once watching other children at play with their friends and their families nearby and thinking how I must have done something horrible to be alone," he added. 

Her heart had beat for him through all of these talks, difficult as they were for him to say. But this was a reiteration. She had coaxed the answers out of him already, sitting beside him on a couch in a darkened room, watching him as he hung his head and struggled to tell her what he remembered of his past. He had told her the whole of what he remembered of his past that night on the couch. That was only a few days after he had proposed to her. He had called her in the middle of the night, saying he had been thinking about it since they parted, and she had come. He told her all that he knew while she kneeled beside him on the couch, quiet and attentive. He hardly looked at her the entire time, hands pressing into the couch on either side of him, shoulders hunched. Still, nothing he said surprised or frightened her, save that he had completed his first detonation when he only a very small child, even before Dr. J found him. He told her he had sought death for a long time, but suicide hadn't occurred to him until he was older and already half through with his training with Wing. He had been serious about the war then too, about finishing what he set out to do, but he hoped (and even planned) to kill himself on a mission as soon as he was able. But something, some hope for a peaceful world perhaps, kept him going. 

"I love you, Heero," she told him now. She sat up, struggling to sit between his legs facing him, taking his hand in hers, stroking his fingers quietly, feeling sad, but strangely content simply because he shared these things with her. 

He stroked her cheek with one hand, letting the book fall in the grass. "Turn around," he said. She twisted, falling back against him again. He held her, wrapping his arms around her comfortably, hugging her from behind. "I'm only telling you this because you wanted to know," he said. "I'm not bitter."

"I know," he whispered as he reached around to kiss her jaw. "There has to be some reason you are so kind, but I'm sorry all the same. I just want you to know that you're a good person."

She wanted him to agree but he didn't. He hadn't told her he deserved her yet, but she was patient. For now he only pulled her closer to him and settled back against the tree as she slumped against his chest and stretched out her legs.

"Did you hear from Duo yet?" she asked to change the subject. It was unhealthy to dwell on the past. She had just wanted to know. Besides, she was concerned about Duo. He had left to gather information almost three weeks ago and his messages had been scanty and not too frequent. 

"Lady Une said she received a message from him yesterday," Heero murmured. He didn't sound it, but she could tell that he was worried. "It was several days old."

She bit her lip. "Milliardo told me he's going there," she said, trying to control the anxiety in her voice. "He told me he's leaving soon, but he didn't say when exactly. I think he means to slip out without me knowing."

By the sigh that came almost inaudibly from his lips, she knew he was really worried.

"Heero, what's going on out there?" she asked.

"I don't know exactly," he replied. "I imagine that's why Zech's is going. Communication is getting worse. There are so many people out there that everybody just keeps expecting for the situation to dissolve, but it's getting worse. Gardiner is receiving help from all sorts of sources and there's nothing we can do to stop it. I hear buildings have been destroyed. People are out on the street. There are refugees, fires, crime and the collapse of all government. It looks like a war, but it's not. It's anarchy. Civilians are destroying their own homes. The only soldiers out there are ours, trying to restore the peace."

"How long was Duo supposed to be there?" she whispered.

"He was supposed to be back by now," Heero said honestly, and she felt herself tense. "Lady Une is getting ready to send in rescue teams to pull people out. Nobody can locate Gardiner. Even with satellite intel we can't find him. Even Trowa thinks that if he disappeared things would eventually die down. We know he's paying people to keep everything riled up, giving people weapons and spreading derision."

"What else is being done?"

"I heard a rumor that leaders of the old nations want to hold a counsel on site. They want targeted leaders from certain countries to hold a conference near the war zone and call Gardiner out."

"They want to parley with him?"

"They want the bloodshed to end. Most of the nearby nations have sent people out there, but they're dying. Once volunteers get out there, it's just chaos. Communication is terrible. Some leaders think if leaders traveled under heavy guard to the area they could hold a conference, successfully pull their own people out and reach a settlement with Gardiner all at the same time."

"A settlement? Does he want money?"

"Nobody knows what he wants. But they hope to placate him with something, and maybe try to bring him in."

"He's not that stupid, is he?" she protested. 

"I don't know, Relena," Heero replied. "He might at least send somebody, or be willing to talk. He hasn't negotiated at all. It's mindless destruction and murder out there and as far as we can tell, he doesn't claim any responsibility. Leaders are desperate. They don't want to look useless and it probably _would_ do some good."

She sighed. "This is so dreadful."

There was a moment of silence. Relena felt a tension between them, and suddenly she knew why. Her stomach plummeted as he shifted behind her.

"Relena?" he said in a cool, urgent tone. It was the tone he used when he tried to detach himself from her, to remove himself from becoming emotionally involved.

"What?" she asked, knowing what he was going to say.

Heero was quiet for a moment, "If Lady Une decides to send people in to pull others out, I'm going."

For a brief moment, her heart froze in her chest, but she had expected it. Her hands flew to his arms, fingers scrunching the material of his sleeves. "Heero…" She forcibly relaxed her grip and turned to look at him. His eyes were hard and resolute as he stared over her head. Just looking at him, she knew she couldn't change his mind.

"Quatre and Trowa are going too," he said, not looking at her. "Wufei and Duo are already out there, though in different places. Wufei we've heard from, but not Duo. He was in the thick of things. Quatre says that Hilde called him. She's a wreck. I need to go, Relena."

She swallowed, eyes running over ever angle of his face, tracing the lines, the determination in his expression. She wanted to kiss him and more, anything to hold on to him a little longer. "Heero, you might have to fight…and kill again. It won't be the same as in the war. Nobody will technically be a soldier."

"I know," he said quietly, his face not changing a whisker. 

His face hadn't changed, so hers changed to match his, resolution for resolution, support for his strength. Inside she was calm, but that sliver of anxiety, anger, fear and tears quivered in her gut. Even so, she nodded in understanding. "If you go," she said, keeping the choke out of her voice, "promise me you'll be careful."

His eyes softened as he looked down at her. Lifting a hand, he touched her face softly, like the brush of a feather. "I will," he said. "I probably won't have to go. I'm sure we'll hear from Duo tomorrow, if not tonight." But he didn't sound sure to her

She didn't say anything in response. Suddenly his body felt very real to her and she wished she was married to him already. Why she wanted it, she wasn't sure; perhaps it would make her feel steadier, perhaps she wanted the excuse to touch him again. Maybe she was afraid she would lose him before she could wed him. She didn't want to fear that she never would be his wife and she also knew she couldn't let herself think that way. Swallowing her fears, she turned around again and pulled his arms around her. 

She didn't want to think about this anymore. Cuddling, they relaxed a moment under the tree. There was a curious split down the center of the trunk, but from this hill they could see New Port City. Heero told her when they came up here today that he used to sit on this hill and think about her before he discovered he loved her. 

"Heero," she murmured lazily, "tomorrow can we look at houses?"

She felt him shift in surprise, but she just leaned her head back against him, covering the masculine hands wrapped around her middle with her own hands. 

"Houses?" he repeated in question.

She closed her eyes, feeling the cool summer breeze blow across the skin on her face. "Yes, Heero. Houses."

She thought she sensed him smiling. "I have one in mind you might like," he said, and nuzzled her neck.

*****

Damion lingered in the doorway, for a moment, one hand on the wall as he watched Audrey lean against the balcony, her hips pressed against the carved stone wall, her hands curving over the railing. His eyes traced every curve of her body, from the pale slender neck, to her slender waist to the shape of her legs hidden by her dress. She was wearing one of the dresses he had bought for her, and some of the jewelry too. All of the gifts had bought for her were specially designed, many of them by his mother, but he picked a few out himself. The dresses he chose lately had lower and lower necklines, more trimly cut styles and higher slits in the skirts. Terese had taken to editing his selections. When he found out about it he laughed. He hadn't known he was doing it. Audrey wouldn't have been able to walk around in some of the things he wanted to see her in, but he admitted that he hadn't always been thinking of her walking around. 

He thought he must be going crazy. It was common to find himself thinking about girls or girls' bodies or sex or anything in between, but this was different. He had had mild musing of Audrey in that way before, of course, but always with the omission that they were only musings, nothing serious. But it was serious now. His fingers itched to trace the lines of her form. He felt feverish whenever he thought about it. No matter how hard he tried he couldn't rid himself entirely of those feelings. It was lust, but it was not just lust. 

He was in love. He wanted to make her smile. He wanted her to feel the things he wanted her to feel. Kisses weren't enough to express how he felt anymore, especially when they weren't always returned with the same energy he put into them. She seemed to like his kisses, though, which was something, he supposed. Sometimes she would let his tongue into her mouth now, which was thrilling, and sometimes she would let him descend below her face to her neck and collarbone. When he stole glances at her face, she seemed to be enjoying it, but for all he knew she was faking her interest in him. His head was so fevered most of the time he couldn't always read her, especially if her eyes were closed. So much was expressed in those large, liquid brown eyes of hers. 

She was driving him crazy. He desperately wanted to hold her. Well, he wanted to do more than that, but he could wait for those things if he must, since he knew he was going to get them. Right now he would settle for being able to just touch her, pull her close. The only times she didn't jump out of skin when he held her was when they danced. In public she would let him put a hand around her waist, but he wanted to run his hands over her hips and up her ribcage. He didn't think anything so mild would be forbidden and he was so curious to feel her. 

But she did not love him. More than that, she liked him. He felt if he couldn't have her love and desire for him, it would be better if they had never met until the wedding day. Before all of this he had thought falling in bed with a stranger would be bad enough, but now that he knew her (and he felt he was beginning to know her very well) he feared that forcing himself on a friend would be even worse. But he didn't have a choice at this point, and for him, it didn't really matter. He was in love with her. It was her he was worried about. 

Being in love wasn't what he had really imagined. He had thought he loved her that first weekend, but it was nothing compared to the confusion he felt now. When his head wasn't fevered with desire, he was floating on clouds and naming his children and thinking about all the things he was learning about her. It was not perfect yet, but he knew enough to say that he loved her, maybe not with a deep, lasting love, but that would come if he cultivated his interest in her. And he was so interested. She was fascinating, challenging, engaging in mind and body and speech. He knew half the palace thought he had turned into a fool. He could not stop smiling when he thought of her. He loved the way she smiled for him, even if she did not love him. He would take anything he could get from her.

He just wished he could get more.

She was standing on the balcony, staring out over the city, at the people below almost too small to be seen. Maybe that counted as public. Nerves jittery, he took a deep breath and approached her from behind. In the aquamarine dress he had bought her, she was stunning, and as he approached, she moved, half-turning to see who was behind her. The front of the dress was scrunched along the top, with round peasant sleeves cut off at the shoulder. He caught a bare glimpse of the swell of her breasts above the material and had to avert his eyes. She blinked at him in surprise, smiling, but before she could completely turn around he stepped into her space and put his hand around her waist, pulling her back against him.

She gasped, tensing, her hands going to his hands and clutching them.

"Why won't you let me hold you?" he asked quietly, staring over her shoulders and past the dark waves of her hair. He had never asked her before now. He had always complied with her silent wishes, trying to be gentlemanly.

He could feel her breathing. She was slender, smooth and soft beneath his hands. He wondered what her skin would feel like, devoid of clothing, and forcefully had to realign his thinking.

"I didn't know you wanted to hold me," she said in a flat, but not emotionless tone. "I…"

"Well I do, nicely." Closing his eyes, he let his hands trail down to her hips, caressing them. Her breathing quickened. His own breath seemed to stick in his throat. He shook his head, trying to clear out the cobwebs. "But I don't want to scare you," he said, "or do anything you don't want me to."

She didn't answer, but neither did she relax. Curiously, his fingers brushed the top of her thighs, descending to her legs. Her hands grasped his, pulling them back up to her waist. Only a little put off, he pulled her back into him, wrapping his arms about her middle until he completely encircled her. She gasped again, and then laughed. That laugh was like a drink of cold water and he smiled, hugging her.

"Does it offend you?" he asked. "I don't want to offend you, or make you feel…"

"It's okay," she said, but he caught a hitch in her voice even as she leaned her head back against his shoulder. Then her whole body relaxed, melting into him, going limp in his arms. "I didn't mean to deny you anything," she said in sweet tones, and turned her head so that he could see her face.

She was asking him to kiss her, he realized, or letting him kiss her if he wanted. He did want to, but he would rather she kiss him because _she_ wanted to, so he refrained. But he kept his hold on her, looking into her eyes, reading her face. After a moment he relented and brushed her lips softly, then pulled back. Once started, she completed the kiss, one of her hands coming up to touch his face. Breaking from her mouth, he trailed his lips to her jawbone and then to her neck, nipping at the soft skin. When he came up for air, her eyes were closed in what looked like pleasure, but the minute he stopped she blinked, eyes opening, and he couldn't read a single emotion in her eyes.

For a moment he thought she looked at him with something he would have easily mistaken for affection if he dared, but she never indicated verbally or otherwise than the looks she gave him that she cared for him that way at all. Still, there was something about her eyes. In their depths he thought he could see her thoughts about him, nice thoughts too, maybe loving thoughts someday. She looked at him like he was the only thing that existed, or at least the only man that existed for her, but she did not touch him or say anything. And even when he held her like this it felt like he was being granted a temporary privilege that she controlled and willed because she was generous. He did not like that. He wanted to possess her.

He wanted to ask her if she loved him or thought she one day could but didn't.

"Master Damion!"

He turned his head at the sound of Manny's bright voice in the hall. Damn. He let one palm brush against Audrey's flat stomach as he prepared to let her go. Again the thought of no clothes as a barrier between them invaded his mind.

Manny walked in before he could move, still chatting amiably. "Master Damion, I was in the city and I heard some marvellous rumors about you being an obnoxious, aggressive prig and Audrey being a dru… oh, sorry."

Manny looked a touch sheepish when he walked in upon them, but Damion let nothing awkward show on his own face. Since it was just Manny, it didn't matter to him, but it would be different for Audrey. He kissed Audrey's cheek for good measure and released her, trying not to be quick about it. Her face changed when he let her go, to a more reserved and severe expression, but when he stepped back she turned her head to follow him with her eyes. Was there perhaps a touch of longing there? He wished he knew what she felt.

"Sorry," Manny said again, directing his plea more in Audrey's direction.

"What do the rumors say?" Damion prompted in good humor. He was usually interested in amusing rumors about himself that Manny frequently uncovered.

"You, my Lord," Manny said with an exaggerated bow, "are an aggressive, obnoxious and abominable man raised in the company of a prostitute."

"What?" Damion said, blinking. Audrey laughed, which made his mood even better. "Who?"

"Julia," Manny said, raising both hands in a manner that suggested something obvious.

"Ah," Damion said. Julia. She might agree if she were here, but he remembered earlier days when they were young and he was a little annoyed, though obviously not with Manny. Manny would probably be annoyed too.

"And Audrey," Manny said, looking at her for permission, "if I may continue," she nodded assent, "is a scheming lying little cheat pretending to be angelic."

"I don't pretend to be angelic!" Audrey protested with another of those sweet, happy expressions that were rare for her. This time Damion laughed.

Manny held up a hand for attention. "My Lady first choice is also a drunken slut," he added with a firm nod.

Audrey looked positively shocked. Seemed her sense of propriety was shaken a bit. 

Damion merely chuckled. "Very amusing," he muttered to her credit, "the things people say."

Audrey relaxed, but her smile looked a little strained as she touched his arm. "Quite," she said dryly. "I'm going to go take a nap," she added.

He nodded. "I'll find you later," he said, not sure whether to show his regret at her going or try to pretend that her presence or lack of it didn't affect him. 

She turned and walked back inside, disappearing behind the corner. Damion watched her go until he could no longer see her, then leaned against the railing.

Manny smiled at him. "Any progress? She looked happy."

"I don't know," he said truthfully. "Is this the way it was with you and Terese?"

Manny made a face. "Terese and I have a chaotic relationship, Damion. You know that. It mostly just sweet flirting at first, but then everything accelerated in a natural progression. It was very…normal, I guess. I don't know what to tell you. It seems weird to me that Audrey would be both emotionally and physically inhibited."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, maybe she's not in love with you, but she _likes_ you, and it's not just friendship. It can't be. Most girls would at least be interested in something physical with that much. I mean, maybe she wants to wait, and that's fine, but…"

He nodded. "But it's like she's scared, yeah. Well, she's probably not a slut then."

"Probably not," Manny agreed. "I wouldn't really worry about this whole love thing, Damion. She should come around eventually."

He couldn't rely on that, though he appreciated Manny's effort to make him feel better. It seemed so unfair that he could fall so in love with her and she could feel nothing for him in return. Well, Manny thought she liked him as more than a friend. That was better. Maybe it was because she was too proper. Maybe he should take her out somewhere in the city where they could shed their identities for a night and behave like young people. Maybe he could convince her to wear something that would show the shape of her legs.

"Any mail for me?" he asked to redirect his attention.

*****

Audrey's forced smile collapsed the second she left the balcony and stormed down the passageways of the palace to her rooms. She kept her expression flat, her movements controlled, her mind and memory as blank as possible.

She didn't know what was happening to her, when she had begun to crave Damion's kisses, when his presence became comforting and terrifying at the same time. But she knew when he had grabbed her from behind she had almost lost control of her voice, had almost pulled herself out his grasp before she could think clearly. Once settled in his arms she felt fine, even safe, but for a moment… 

__

Lights swam hazily, voices shouted and receded into whispers, colors swirled. She laughed and laughed, and cried somehow. Hands on her wrists suddenly wrapped around her waist, guiding her backward. A door shut. Quiet fell over her. Lights dimmed, colors went dark. Movement still felt unstable. Backward. Backward.

She couldn't react like that again with him. He didn't deserve it. She had to shed this, hide it, bury it deep. Running through the halls, she gathering the beautiful material of her gorgeous dress in her hands. Reaching her quarters, she slammed the door closed behind her and began turning on every light in the room.

__

"Hold still. You said you wanted this."

"I…"

"Come on. It's no big deal, right? I'll take care of you."

She kicked off her shoes and reached for anything to distract her. Drunken slut. People were saying that?

__

Lips on her skin, hot and heated. Hands reaching for her, grasping and roaming. She pushed against them, swiping them away, but there were so many. Her hands were caught. Her body was against a wall… or a bed? 

"Oh." A slurred, gasping plea. Did she even speak at all? The room lurched. The walls disappeared.

"You're fine. Be quiet." 

Death of a first cousin. A father gone. A mother dead only a few days. Why not go to some anonymous party? She was First Choice? Who was she to some man she had never met and would probably be indifferent to? What did it matter when there was so much pain? What had her mother always said about men? Silent sobs shook silently in her breast, caught and smothered in her throat.

__

No air, no space, no voice. She squirmed under weight, heart beating, breath rasping. No clothes. Stifling. Lights blurring. Head buzzing. Room swaying. She felt sick. "I'm going to pass out." Somebody mumbled it. 

Hands invading, shadows covering her. Skin in her sight, a man's bare chest and arms that pushed her hands down. She was limp as a jellyfish. Gasp. Fear. Panic. "You're fine." A harsh, husky male voice. A fading world.

"Yeah. Okay." A slurred voice whispering instant intoxicated agreement. Hands ran over her body, rough, desperate, angry, everywhere…

Everywhere.

Everything went dark.

There were no tears now, only acceptance and resolution. It was not an accident. She knew. She knew. She had known. She fell on her bed, eyes drifting closed, mentally sweeping out the closets of her mind, chasing out dreams. It was no use to worry. There was nothing she could do. It didn't matter anyway, not at all, not to Damion and not to her. It was so long ago. Her own choices she could live with, cold if she had to be. It was just unfortunate, just damn unfortunate, for him. She had not wanted to hurt him, not now. If she had known she would _like_ him… It didn't matter now. God, it was so unfair.

It was not rape. 

It had not been rape. It was just stupid. She knew what she was doing. She knew. She didn't even remember a thing about it, except when she woke up the next day in a strange place, alone and knowing what had happened, remembering why it happened, and feeling absolutely nothing. She still had no idea what it was really like, no memory even if she enjoyed it, no thoughts at all. Now she was just sorry, so very sorry. 

For Damion. Prince Damion who was actually in love with her. 

Thank you for all the reviews I received last chapter!!!!!! I was positively THRILLED. I was hoping to have this part done around Tuesday or Wednesday, but apparently not. Is this the longest one yet? It might be. Well, what I've said about reviews still applies, so please don't make me think four days of my spring break was an utter waste of my time. If you reviewed last chapter, please review again!!! Some of you who reviewed for chapters one or two and then stopped, yeah, I had no idea you were still reading. If you don't comment, I have to assume you're not there, that you didn't come back, and that makes me sad. L So PLEASE REVIEW. There are several sections to this chapter, so comments on all of them would be nice since they're not all related. And predictions would be good too. I like predictions. THANK YOU again for reviewing. You make it worth it. Really. Just press the button and write something, okay? ^_^ 


	14. News and Advancements

Temper the Soul 

Chapter 14 

by zapenstap 

  
  
  
  


Heero's fingers blazed over the keys, typing, typing. Panels ran down the screen in a continuous scroll as his eyes skimmed over the words, absorbing the gist of the contents, searching for information. The room about was absolutely silent, deathly quiet as he resumed his old habits. 

He skimmed past something that looked interesting. What was that? He scrolled back, one hand manipulating the keys to bring up a chart, but no, it wasn't what he had wanted. 

"Hn." Opening and fastening to the screen without another blink, he resumed his work. 

To look at himself now, hunched over a computer in the middle of the night, one might think nothing had changed in the years following the end of the war, but there was a significant difference. Even in the midst of such focused and desperate work, he noticed so many sounds, so many sights. He felt alive, positively alive. 

He shivered as he typed, the quick contraction of muscles pebbling his skin. Even as he scanned the words on the screen her face lingered in the background of his head, circling round and round like a drunken apparition. She knew everything about him now, everything there was to know. At first it had been terrifying, then comforting, but now none of it mattered, not really. 

It was like cleaning out a dark space in a locked room. Once it was clean, the room was merely empty and ready for redecorating. He would never forget where he came from and it would always affect him, but for whatever reason she related to who he was. Looking into the computer screen, he could almost see her face reflected in his own. 

He still thought about her sexually. He could hardly not, but it was like it didn't matter. He would love her even if that was never part of the bargain, would identify her as part of himself even if it were impossible to mimic that feeling, like he had all those years ago, before he had come to know her that way. He still wanted her, more deeply now, but not so desperately. He desired her, but he was content, or at least patient. 

It was the way she looked at him, the burning spirit in her eyes, that made him shake so strangely. However he thought of her, whatever she wore, however she arranged her hair, whatever she did, there remained an enduring strength about her, an unquenchable fire that blazed to glorified brightness in the face of opposition and smoldered in love for other people when there was nothing else to do. He saw it during the war, when she gave speeches, when she was at work in her office, when she smiled at him, when they kissed. There was strength and kindness in her, the same strength and kindness that was in him. He didn't think anything could conquer her. When she wasn't watching him he would study her, hair up or down, in pants or dresses, smiling or not, just observing the girl he loved. It was a peculiar love between them, built on something strange and intangible, but it was real, and he didn't think that it was would ever fade or die. Somehow in their lives they had both tempered a similar sort of soul, through trial and fire, though pain and suffering, through dreaming and the failing of dreams. They looked at the world the same way, saw the same things, the same emotions, the same struggles, the same realization of peace. 

He came to understand that he loved her as he loved himself, even when he did not like himself, and he was slowly beginning to realize that it was impossible not to love himself when he loved her so much. If he didn't love himself, he wouldn't be able to love her. It was a contradiction in ideas. She was like him. She was a part of him. He may not always agree with who he was, he may expect more of himself, but he did love himself in a simple, clean hearted way. He would always love her in that way too, even if at any time in their lives together he did not like her. 

And she was right. It wasn't normal, it wasn't the best life, but there was a quality about his own soul he knew he admired in himself, something he wanted other people to see, something he lived for. There was a reason he made the choices he made, because he thought they were the best choices, and it was the essence of _him_ that decided that. He had spent some time thinking about it while he worked construction during the days and researched at night. 

He was searching for Duo, anything he could find out about him. Wufei had called in again the day before, but it had now been another three weeks since anyone had heard from Gundam Pilot 02 and even Wufei seemed worried now. "Yeah, it's a little crazy out here," he had said over the vid-com in those cutting, slant-eyed cynical tones of his at his most edgy, "but it seems so _strange_ to me that you have not heard from him at all." 

But Wufei was not in the same area as Duo. Wufei was with the peace-keeping forces in the city, trying to calm the people. Duo had gone investigating the wilderness, where it was said mobs had been gathering to hear Gardiner speak and join his cause after he was chased out of the city by the Preventors. It was said he had more than enough people to form an army if he wanted one, and that it was not totally implausible that those people could be organized to attack a city at some later date, and maybe in a mob-like frenzy raze it to the ground. Wufei was stationed in one of the nearby cities with Sally Po and others among the Preventors and peace-keeping forces, but that was little comfort. When it came down to it, if there was a fight it would be mostly civilians against civilians, for what ex-soldiers there were were estimated to be equally distributed on both sides. 

Of course leaders of ex-nations had offered assistance. Various police-keeping forces and soldiers loyal to certain countries had been volunteered for the task to keep the cities in the area protected, but there were a lot of cities and a lot of disorganization and skewed loyalty. No one knew where Gardiner would strike exactly and members of ex-nations had some difficulty cooperating in an organized manner. They didn't know who to take orders from. There were no definite leaders. Some were even throwing away their loyalties and switching sides. Those that weren't were sometimes targeted by covert Gardiner-loyalists still hidden within the city. Many nation leaders had refused to send further help, others had pulled their men out of the area before they lost more people, and others felt like they should. Heero was a little angry with the leaders for backing down and protecting their own interests at the expense of the civilians their soldiers could protect. He agreed with Relena that everybody ought to do what they could to protect the peace that was everyone's right, but at the same time he knew it was more complicated than that. More than anything he just wanted the strife to end. 

It was crazy as hell. And Duo was lost in there somewhere. 

A knock came at his door. With one hand on the desk, he turned, twisting in his chair to see Relena step into the room. Her expression was severe as of late, much like his own, much like it was during the war, but she stepped through the doorway gracefully, folding her arms across her chest. Golden-brown locks of hair fell down her shoulders, straight and simple, no curls or pins or highlights that made it shine, but he found himself wanting to touch it. 

Their eyes caught and held each other briefly as she approached. Those pretty, pale blue eyes in a face so familiar he knew by her expression what she was thinking and feeling. It was almost too much to stare at her that way. Without blinking, he turned back to the computer and kept typing. 

"Zechs is gone?" he asked. 

"That's right," she said quietly, coming to stand behind him. Her hands curled delicately around the back of the chair, just behind his neck, inches from touching his skin. He didn't think she meant anything by it, but it made him think about things he really oughtn't think about right now. 

This was how it had been in the past few weeks. They both wanted nothing more than to enjoy the feeling of being in love, but there was too much going on in the world to fully enjoy it any longer. He found her constantly fretting and himself constantly researching, both of them working, searching for answers and ideas, doing anything that would bring back the peace they had fought so hard for. Relena had been called to meetings with other peace ambassadors to discuss the problem. Some people wanted to stage an attack on Gardiner's people and be done with it, crazy fools, and that had to be avoided. They had to keep it as localized as possible, to keep the activities in the area criminal and not accelerate the aggression to warfare. 

The times didn't exactly spoil their love. In some ways it made it stronger, but he could sense the anxiety growing in Relena, and he knew it was because she feared she was going to lose him, or lose somebody she loved. And he knew she wanted to speed up the wedding, even though they couldn't possibly have it without Zechs present, or half the world for that matter. The public still knew nothing about it, and preparations were slowed in having to keep it under wraps while all of this tragedy was afoot. 

"It won't be long, Relena," he said. "I promise it..." 

Her fingers brushed against his neck and he closed his eyes, letting his hands fall away from the keys. Her thumbs dug into his shoulders, kneading the muscles there, and her fingers caressed higher up on his neck. Her touch was sweet. In the darkened room he could barely make out her shape behind him, but he could feel the warmth emitting from her body. He knew she was staring at nothing as she massaged his neck, smoothing the stress from his shoulders as she bit her own lip in worry, thinking about things he wished she wouldn't worry herself about. 

"Zechs can take care of himself," he added honestly as the movements of her hands slowed and then stopped. 

"No word from Duo?" she asked. 

He hated to say it. "No word." 

Abruptly, she touched his face with one of her hands, cupping his chin and cheek in her palm and turning his face toward her. She didn't say anything for several long moments while he met her eyes silently, but he could feel her thoughts. She was worried about him the way he was worried about her. He didn't want her to worry. He was trying not to think about his own fears. Silently, he took her hand away from his face and clasped it tightly in his own, squeezing her fingers. Gently, he pulled her into his lap, wrapping one arm around her lower back and hips to support her, and threaded the fingers of his other hand through her hair, caressing her cheek. 

She looked down at him with pained anxiety in her eyes, love for him mixed with her worry. She looked like she wanted to kiss him just to take away the pain, but neither of them moved toward the other. 

"You know," she murmured as he brushed her fingers over her cheek. "I hardly know my brother, but he's watched over me since I was a child. I know he cares about me more than I understand, but most of what I know of him I've learned through Noin. It is so strange to be in his family, but I don't want..." 

"I know," he said quietly, understanding and hoping to quiet her. 

She was quiet again for a moment. "Do you think Duo is okay, Heero?" 

"Yeah," he said immediately. "He's probably just lost somewhere." 

She nodded. After a moment she lowered her head, her hair falling like a curtain over her face, spilling over his wrists. "I love you," she breathed quietly. 

He leaned toward her to reach her face with his own, hungry lips tasting her mouth. She trembled as she kissed him back, her body pressed closed to his, her hands wrapping around his head, her parted fingers surrounding his ears. When she broke away, seeming to have to drag herself from his mouth, she pulled herself close to him and looped her elbows over his shoulders. 

He gathered her close, hugging her. "I love you too," he whispered.   
  
  
  


***** 

Damion took Audrey's hands and guided her. "Don't open your eyes until I tell you to," he warned as he brought her to her door. "Hold on a second." 

He let her go and she stood still, eyes closed and eyebrows raised in charming expectation. "More presents? Damion, I..." 

"It's customary," he said with a shrug, waving it off, and pushed open her door. Taking her hand again, he pulled her inside and shut the door softly behind them. "Okay. Open them." 

She opened her eyes. They were dark soulful eyes, often so sad and reserved, but all of the gifts and stolen kisses in the past two months were knocking chinks in her shield, drawing out that soft-hearted, lovingly kind girl he knew existed under all that frost and snow. For a second she seemed simply surprised, staring at the wedding dress set up on a mannequin in her room, but then her expression deepened into wonder. 

Walking back to her side, he gazed at it with her, at a dress of such bulk and beauty it was valued at several thousand dollars. He had not seen it before today either, but now that it was practically done except for adjustments, a good two months before the actual wedding, he couldn't have waited to show it to her. It was huge, not in size, for it was cut to fit her slender form like a second skin, but in the sheer volume of silk, embroidered lace and pearl-studded satin that rose about the hips and shoulders and cascaded all over the floor. The back was like a the wings of some strange, but beautiful butterfly, bits of which could be seen even from the front. The train was enormous. 

He looked at her, swallowing, wondering if she would hate it, think it too much or the wrong style or something, but she moved toward it without changing her expression of stunned amazement, and gingerly fingered the material, almost as if to make sure it was real. 

"I didn't have anything to do with designing it," he said quickly. "I just signed the papers..." 

Her sudden smile as she looked up at the dress took his breath away and he trailed off, watching her as she gazed at it, peering at the pearls and the intricate scroll-work. "It's beautiful," she breathed, and her smile relaxed as she looked at him with deep, glimmering eyes. 

He swallowed at the look she gave him. His heart was a furnace. He thought he was going to fall over. 

"You like it?" he asked, approaching her with an intense feeling in his gut like a coiled spring. 

"I love it," she said, but though her words seemed uttered off-hand, that sudden, beautiful smile resurfaced as she flashed her teeth at him, and he felt it catch him like a kite in the wind. Reaching for her somewhat on impulse, he took her attention away from the dress with a kiss, seizing her about the waist and pulling her close. 

Hands against his chest, she took a deep breath in his mouth, her chest expanding as air filled her lungs. She rose up on her toes like she was going to float away. Without thought, his hands entangled themselves in her hair, dark as a raven's wing, firmly grounding her, pulling her down beside him. "Are you okay with this?" he asked huskily between kisses, and took a brief moment to catch her eyes. 

Fire tore throughout his body. Smiling, he leaned in to kiss her again, meeting her half-way. As she settled back into the kiss, his hands slid over her body. He aggressively caressed her shoulders, back, rips, waist and hips, wondering if she would stop him like she always did. To his shock, her hands rose to his head hesitantly, then with more energy, cupping his face, fingers trailing along his neck. It was intoxicating. 

His legs felt weak. She was wilting against him. 

They should sit down. 

He moved her backward until she sat down on the edge of the bed and he sat down beside her, hands rubbing her shoulders and neck, kissing her chin, her cheeks, her parted lips. She drew up her legs and he climbed up on his knees beside her, leaning over her as he kissed her face. Fire burned in his head, a fiery haze of lust and love. Images of sex with her rose unbidden to his mind, or bare skin and heat, rhythm and pleasure, but none of that was his present intention at the moment. It was only a coincidence they happened to be on a bed, her bed. His hands were exploring her hips and legs now, legs half folded under her and kept from his site and touch by the material of her dress. 

She made a sudden sound like a groan as he kissed her throat and he almost lost it. Sexual energy stirred up in his gut, making him feel almost nauseous with its intensity. The urge to push her back onto the bed and lay on top of her was so strong he almost tried it, but managed to govern himself. Still, his hands had a mind of their own and he found that he had removed the sleeves from her shoulders and was kissing the bare skin he found there. Everything about her body was beautiful, mysterious and for some reason felt like his property. He might not have her now, but he didn't have to share her with anybody and in a little while he _would_ be able to go all the places he wanted to go, feel all the things he had dreamed of feeling for a long time. And so would she. That was the beauty of it, if they loved each other. His pleasure would be hers and he could give her pleasure to please himself. That was all he really wanted. He wanted to please her desperately. 

She still seemed hesitant about touching him, though. She had leaned back, supporting her weight with her hands behind her while he covered her neck with kisses. Breathing hard, he looked first at her face, eyes closed, and then down at her breasts, wondering if she would let him touch them. His eyes raked across her entire body, at the slim waist and her hips and legs. He was very curious to see her legs. The skirt of her dress had risen part-way up her calves and he traced the curves there with his eyes before gingerly touching them. Trying to control his breathing, as if he was a thief stealing into private property, he caressed them softly and then inched his hand and the material with it up to her knee, staring at the creamy pale fresh he exposed inch by inch. Swallowing, he brought his hand away just above the knee, feeling his blood in his veins beginning to pulse where it shouldn't if he went much further. 

Leaving her legs alone, he went back to kiss her face and maybe elicit some more sounds and smiles from her, but stopped when he took note of her expression. Her eyes were still closed, but they seemed to be clenched tight now, her jaw locked, her eyebrows drawn low in a position of fear and endurance. Blinking, he reached up to caress her cheek, concern replacing the sudden onslaught of desire. 

"Audrey?" he whispered. "Are you okay? What's wrong? Open your eyes." 

She opened them and seemed to stare at him in surprise. Sitting up, she reflexively drew the material of her dress back over her knees. Disappointed, he grasped her arms and bent to kiss her neck, but she jerked suddenly and pulled away, eyes shut tight. When she opened them, he was amazed to see panic. Ever so gently he turned her face toward him and put his other hand on the side of her body beneath her arms, pulling her close. She spasmed under his touch, crying out sharply, struggling to free herself. He let go and in a sudden frenzy she disengaged herself from him entirely, reeling backward. The suddenness of her reaction cause him to fall back in turn, pulling away from her and practically rolling off the other side of the bed. 

"Audrey!" he half shouted. 

She took a few deep shuddering breaths. "Sorry," she breathed as if waking from a dream, touching her forehead and relaxing her posture, but not her muscles. She stared at him like a strange cat, shaking. 

"Audrey, what?" he asked, gesturing to calm her down. She was a supposed to be a maiden. Maybe she thought he was planning something different than what he was. "Are you scared?" he asked. "Nothing is going to happen before the wedding between us. I just...what?" 

She opened her mouth, but looking at him for several moments, she shut it again. She looked around her as if looking for an escape, but it was her room. 

Should he leave, confront her, comfort her? "Why do you do that?" he asked softly, but candidly. "You you have no need to be so frightened. I'll take good care of you." 

She put a hand over her mouth, choking, and squeezed her eyes shut. He didn't know what to do, but he almost felt he had made it worse. "I'm sorry," she said finally, pulling her hand away and controlling her tone. She looked so vulnerable there on the bed, one second in his grasp and the next shaking and devoid of all of her composure. "I don't know what came over me. I'm fine, really." 

He didn't believe her, but he scooted back toward her anyway, kissing her on the lips gently, like the kiss of a butterfly. If he could hold her long enough to keep her still... She received his kiss with a smile, and he thought he felt something from her, something warm and loving and trusting, but when he reached for her, leaning into her space, she gasped again, shuddering under his hands, pulling back. 

Without a word, he broke away and got off the bed, moving to stand some distance from her. She refused to look at him and he did not understand it. His intentions were good. He did not believe that she still had no feelings for him whatsoever and it was simply difficult to succumb to his desires, even if she had never admitted to any particular feeling. She enjoyed spending time with him, she took his kisses with eagerness most of the time now, she laughed at the things he said and helped him with his work and sometimes he even caught her watching him, just staring at him with a most peculiar expression. She flushed when he said sweet things to her and sometimes it was even she who kissed him now. But more than that, he could feel something, a sense of caring and desire that was in her eyes and in her gestures, but he didn't ask her to confess anything. If she wanted to tell him something she would. He had to believe that. He didn't want to believe that she simply gave him whatever he wanted in order to appease him. 

But this he did not understand at all. Unless she thought... but no, she wouldn't think that, would she? "I wasn't going to do anything," he repeated. "You're safe with me. I would never hard you or do anything you don't want to do." 

"I know," she replied, sitting on the edge of the bed now with one leg tucked under her and her shoulders hunched in dejection. He had never seen her like that before. She was always so controlled. Now her self-possession, her walls, were dented, torn, hastily erected with just enough support to keep him at bay. 

Hedging, he decided to just say it. "You act like you think I'm going to rape you." He hated saying that. It sounded wrong in his mouth. It was a terrible thing to accuse and be accused of. "I wouldn't do that," he said earnestly. 

"I know," she said again. "It's not that." 

"Then what?" 

She didn't answer. 

He waited, mind buzzing with possible reasons; virginity, something to do with her parent's messy relationship, her own self-possession, something... He was determined to get to the bottom of it, though it hurt him. He didn't want to force her to do anything or tell him anything, but he was afraid of this, whatever it was. There was only two months before the wedding date now, and she was always in his head. He desired her day in and day out. He fantasized about it all the time. It was terrible, and this panicked rejection of his advances was positively terrifying. But he couldn't make her tell him anything without resorting to a royal command, and even then she could refuse and he knew he wouldn't do anything. He wasn't even considering something like that, but he needed to ease it out of her somehow, to gently or willfully... He just wanted to help her, help them. This had to _work_ eventually. 

"I..." she began suddenly. He waited, feeling helpless, but she stopped and turned away. 

"Audrey,' he implored, "if you could try to explain..." 

There came a knock at the door. "Prince Damion. You have an urgent message." 

"Can it wait?" he asked harshly. Audrey did not look at him. She looked angry and cornered, though not necessarily because of him. Still, he did not want her to feel that way, though he felt he needed to understand this. "Audrey," he said more quietly, but with deeper intensity. "If I've never said it straight before, I _love_ you." He meant it. He had held back from saying it because he didn't want to make her feel awkward, but... She closed her eyes, tears leaking out the corners. He stared, stammering. Why was she crying? He had never seen her cry before. "Audrey," he breathed, "I want us to..." 

"Prince Damion," the voice came again insistently. "This call can not wait. I apologize for interrupting you with your lady, but..." 

Oh, for the love of God. What was the man thinking? "Come in," he snapped. 

There was a moment of startled silence, but then the door swung open and one of the younger palace guards stepped in hesitantly, peering around. He blinked at the wedding dress and then at Audrey and Damion, both fully clothed and standing some distance apart. Damion blinked himself. Audrey was off the bed and standing by her dress like she had always been there, her expression perfectly flat and composed, her posture erect and graceful, the way he always saw her when they weren't talking intimately or making out in empty rooms or stolen corners. She looked like a Queen, beautiful, proud, frosty as winter, with a countenance like a swan. The cool gaze she directed toward the young guard made him shake in his boots, stammering a slew of hasty apologies. Damion smiled, but over the young man's head, he cast her a concerned and questioning glance, which she avoided by turning her head away. 

"What is it?" he demanded of the young guard, maybe fifteen or sixteen years old. 

"A call on the Vid-screen, Prince Regent Damion Ravineere," the young man said, bowing. "It's from Duo Maxwell and the feed is live. He's a gundam pilot. He says he need to speak with you urgently." 

Damion stared at him. Relena had said that Duo Maxwell had been missing for almost two months... "Show me," he said quickly, feeling torn, and followed the young man out. 

"Damion," Audrey called to him, and he turned. 

There was a sense of urgency in her eyes as she looked at him, and beneath that, intense shame. "Audrey," he said. "If you could speak with me later..." 

"I will," she said, and he didn't question her intent. 

"Could you contact Heero and Relena now? Tell them I have word from their friend and to come quickly if they can." 

"Of course," she replied, and he hurried away before she distracted him any further. 

He could not record the message and send it to Heero and Relena until he knew what was in it. Cinq was not that far away. With Relena's connections and private jet line they could be in Taravren within a few hours. 

But he had to admit, most of his thoughts were still focused on the girl he had left behind with so much unsettled. He tried not to think much about one other thing that might make a girl react that way to a boy's advances. It didn't seem to make much sense to him considering her background, but he couldn't stop thinking about it. Maybe someone else at some time had... The mere implication unsettled his stomach and made him insanely furious. It had to be something else. Maybe he could talk to Heero and Relena about it before he talked to her again.   
  


THANK all of you for reviewing. It makes my LIFE. Please keep doing it. You are allowed to be honest and criticize the story if you want, but _please_ review. Just click the little button and write _something,_ preferrable something specific and encouraging, but I will take anything I can get. 


	15. Confessions

Temper the Soul 

Chapter 15 

by zapenstap 

  
  
  
  


Kisses like that shouldn't be allowed. 

Audrey sat in front of the vanity and stared at herself in the mirror. The heated flush in her cheeks had faded. Her skin was creamy white, her expression perfectly flat, a pale mask like a doll's face. Lowering her eyes, she gazed at the things scattered over the countertop, the brushes and bottles and powders studiously applied every morning to enhance her appearance for the man she would marry in two months time. 

_The purpose of a woman to a man is to be beautiful and willing, nothing more. I learned it too late to save myself._

Her mother's words. 

Audrey's face remained even as she contemplated her reflection, though her stomach sank. Well, she had succeeded after a fashion. He was in love with her, or thought he was. She had not meant for that to happen, and she certainly didn't mean to let it get carried away. Why he was in love with her did not make any sense. She gave him nothing but a little of her history, mere facts, and access to her body in measure to his desire. 

Her mother would congratulate her. She would have sat at her desk, writing poetry like she often did, and glance at her with eyes heavy eyes. In all the time Audrey could remember her mother never smiled at her. The love in her face was the love of anxiety, of the worry and fears involved in raising a child alone with everyone watching and everyone talking. She loved her daughter greatly, but it was a strain and she was not happy. Audrey could never bear much emotion in other people, even now. She preferred quiet serenity in times of happiness and patient endurance in times of hardship. She remembered when her mother would receive a message from her father out of the blue, how her face would crumble and collapse upon reading it. _Men are so cruel. He's so cruel and he doesn't know it!_ The broken tears her mother shed when she shut herself up in her room had frightened Audrey as a child. Growing up, she was taught to be genteel and collected, to be graceful and aloof, to give in measure only that which was demanded, to trust no one but herself and to keep her heart in private custody. She heard nothing but slander in regard to men, and though she never consciously took it to heart, she had difficulty trusting herself to anything better. 

When she discovered her obligation in marriage, Audrey had wanted to be honest with Prince Damion about her feelings, to give him duty and expect duty in return. She could have taken care of him easily. She could have loved him after a fashion, but not amorously, not with the heat and vulnerability he desired. She did not know he would want anything like that. She had never conceived he would be anything like that. 

She examined her face in the mirror, saw the wedding dress in the reflection. She had not expected to find him likable. She had not expected him to be so courteous, funny, or to try so hard to get to know her. She had not expected he would try to fall in love with her. Often she watched him at work, sitting behind a desk, leaning over papers and writing with a smile. She wondered at his light expression, those gray eyes wide with the expectation that everything would turn out well if everyone did their part. His eyes always struck her, those famous, stunning gray eyes that were so honest and so sweet. But she knew she was not sweet herself. She wasn't anything like him at all. 

He deserved better. 

First Choice was _expected_ to be a virgin. God knows she wasn't that. Perhaps for other the value of maidenhood was nothing, but not for the bride of the Prince of Taravren. She clenched her fist around the handle of her hairbrush before mechanically bringing it to her head. Her first and only sexual experience was not something she even remembered, but that didn't matter. If it was made known, the Council of Lords would have a fit if they found out. They would vote to turn her out of the Palace and dissolve her marriage contract. The Prince of Taravren could not receive spoiled goods, to lack anything in a bride. The people of this city and of this nation loved Damion. He was their royal icon and they loved him. He deserved the best of everything. His life was supposed to be one of ease and refinement and classic, picturesque perfection. He was the role model and inspiration for a good-hearted country steeped in tradition and conservatism. He deserved the best for the price he paid, for all the work he did that few people noticed, for all the responsibility he shouldered without complaint. 

If she were found out she would be sent away. She did not want to see the look in his eyes if he found out from anyone other than herself. She did not want him to find out at all, but now she felt she had to tell him, and pray he would keep it secret, that he wouldn't turn her away to seek a new wife. After all, she was the last chance to redeem the entire Veron House after Clara's transgression and her father was right: he would provide for her entire future. And it would hurt him tremendously to start over. He had invested so much of his own heart into her. That shouldn't have happened. She had lost her control. Why did her mind and body have to betray her at his touch? 

Shaking her head, she rose from her vanity and settled herself by the small, private video phone in her room. Straightening her skirts, she did as he had bid her and dialed Relena's office in the Cinq kingdom. 

Heero answered, appearing in the screen. There was a tightness around the corners of his eyes, but other than that he looked well. 

"Audrey Veron," he murmured. 

"Who?" Relena's said in the background, almost as if waking from a deep weariness. The woman came into view at Heero's shoulder, poised and demur, but there were shadows in her eyes too. "Audrey. Can we help you with something?" 

She replied evenly, without hysterics or excitement, though she was glad of the news she was relaying. "Prince Damion Ravineere has received a live call from your friend, Duo Maxwell. He asked that I contact you." 

Relena demeanor shattered around her in a sudden fit of energy and urgency. "Heero," she breathed, grabbing his arm. Heero's face remained blank, but something flickered through his eyes. He stared at Audrey a moment and she felt as if he were trying to read her for more information. But Audrey did not know if their friend Duo was all right, only that he was alive when they received the call. She did not say that, though; Heero could see it well enough. 

"We're coming," he said finally. "How is Damion?" 

"He is well," she replied. "Things have long since settled here." 

Heero said nothing for a moment, merely looking at her. She felt a chill in her spine the way he stared at her, as if he knew everything about her and had some license to call her conduct to account and yet refrained. She did her best to ignore it. "We're coming," he repeated after a moment. "Tell Damion not to transmit the message. I don't know why he sent it to you instead of us, but there must be a reason. We'll be there in a few hours." 

The screen went blank. 

For a long, long while she stared at nothing, listening to the clock ticking on the wall, contemplating the words she would say when Damion allowed her to see him. She sat in the chair for hours, twisting her thumbs, staring at the blank screen where Relena's blue-green eyes had fixed on Heero with such raw emotion Audrey could almost feel it herself. The way she had clasped his arm and clung to him, not like a rag doll, but with equal force and energy, pulling him toward her. 

At great length, a knock at the door disturbed her quiet thoughts. 

"Enter," she said and glanced at the clock. She had sat there for almost three hours. 

Manny came in, closing the door behind him softly. She relaxed a little. "Hey," he said. "Master Damion wants you to see the message with Heero and Relena." 

"They are here already?" she said quietly. 

"They're on their way." Manny watched her, his eyebrows drawn low in a matter of contemplation. "Did you two have a fight?" he asked after a moment. 

Dear Manny, so concerned that they work together for Damion's sake. He had been more than kind to her over the past month, though he always seemed to duck beneath her personal attention. Audrey's mother would have called that indicative of a good servant. Audrey just found it funny, considering how close he was with Damion, like a brother. It wouldn't surprise her if he knew everything, but if Damion had not been clear about this, he must still be emotional about it. She shook her head anyway. "Not exactly. Is he angry with me?" 

Manny gave her a wry look. "He says no, but I would say he was a little irritated at least for awhile. He seems more concerned than anything else. What happened?" 

"Does he think I love him, Manny?" 

"I don't know," Manny said. "I think he would like to think so." 

She nodded, still unable to look at him. There was an awkward pause. 

"Do you?" Manny asked quietly, seeming to summon great courage. "When it comes right down to it, do you love him?" 

She couldn't bring herself to respond to that. _I should just say no_. But looking at his face, she couldn't say it. Saying it to Manny was almost the same as saying it to Damion himself, because Manny would relay this conversation word for word even if he wasn't asked. W_hy can't I say no? _It couldn't be because she felt differently than she believed she did. She didn't want to hurt him was all. She did not feel any of the things love was supposed to make you feel. There was no floatiness, no distraction, no languishing in his absence or contemplating her future with him. 

"How is that gundam pilot?" she asked instead. 

Manny didn't miss a beat at being denied her confidence. "You'll have to come see." 

***** 

Relena called Hilde during the plane flight to tell her what they knew, which wasn't much, but Hilde's relief in hearing _something_ was obvious. The girl so badly wanted to see the message that Relena considered booking a flight to Taravren for her. If there was nothing secret in the message, she didn't see why Damion wouldn't allow her access, but of course she would have to ask him first. 

Heero said little the entire flight. He elected not even to call Preventor headquarters until he had seen the message for himself. He warned Relena to warn Hilde that the message could be secret, which might explain why it was rerouted. Hilde agreed not to breathe a word about it, but Relena felt sorry for her. 

They were greeted at the airport by Damion's staff and taken to the Palace in cars. At the front gates, servants came to take the few things they had packed and they were promptly escorted through the winding halls of the Palace to where Damion awaited them in a guarded council room with Manny and Audrey. Terese was away, making preparation for Damion's upcoming wedding, but her presence wasn't really necessary anyway. 

They were led to a small conference room where Damion met them at the door. Audrey and Manny were waiting inside, Manny standing by the wall and Audrey leaning against the table. 

Damion smiled and held open the door for them. "Glad you could come so quickly." 

"Is it bad?" Relena asked. 

"Watch." Shutting the door, Damion opened the panels of the video-screen by remote and played back the video. 

Duo's came into few, his face shadowed by a blue cap crunched over his head. His cheeks were dirty, dusty, and he looked tired, but not injured. "Hey, Damion," he said in those semi-serious tones he sometimes used. "Sorry for bothering you. I can't get through to Headquarters, but for some reason your channel is open." 

"It's good to hear from you," Damion's recorded voice replied. "Is there news?" 

"Well, I saw Gardiner speak. That guy gives me the chills." Duo paused, looking down. "Look, I don't know if I can make it out of here. All the airports have been taken and there's real fighting in the hills now. Guns and explosives and people killing each other like mad..." he trailed off. "If you talk to Heero or any of the other guys, tell them not to come out here. It's not like a gundam battle. There are no mobile suits. It's just crazy. I saw a guy get his head shot clean of just walking through some open terrain. It's nuts. The only people moving around much are medics and mailmen, and everyone is waylaid, disarmed and... Well, I don't know. I can't seem to get across enemy lines. I'm not really sure what to do. I know there are more soldiers coming in from the outside and leaders have been flying down here to pull their people together into a formal retreat or a formal assault, but I don't know if I can last that long. There's so much confusion. I don't know if you were planning on coming out here or not, but I did talk to some guys from Taravren... Well, just tell the others that it's nuts and not to bother making the trip. I've got a few ideas to my escape, but they're all a little risky. If I can't make it home now, I'll just wait for my opportunity." 

"Did you get any information?" 

"Yeah. Quite a lot. But it won't help. Gardiner's not really a ringleader from what I can tell. He might be out of his mind. All he really does is make speeches against monarchy and the aristocracy and stir up all sorts of hatred and jealousy among the populace. If he disappeared, people might lose interest in this crusade, but I don't think he really cares what anybody does or what's going on. I..." 

The image started to flicker, the colors blurring together. 

"I'm losing you," Damion's voice said. "Duo..." 

The reply was choppy, full of static. "Sorry, man. My channel's being cut off. I got to get out of here before they locate me." 

And that was the end of it. 

No one said anything for a moment. Damion turned off the vid-screen looked at them questioningly. 

"Send it to Headquarters," Heero said at last. 

"What about my brother?" Relena said, swinging her eyes to Damion. "If anybody recognizes him they'll kill him." 

"He'll be okay," Heero said, covering her fist with his hand, but his eyes were sharp and dark, staring straight ahead. "We'll stick around for a few days. Maybe he'll get through to here too." 

Why would the Taravren line be open? Relena shivered. "Can Hilde see the message from Duo, Damion?" 

Damion nodded. "Of course. And you two are more than welcome to stay here if you like." 

"In separate rooms," Heero said. 

Damion gave them a puzzled look. "Sure." He glanced at Manny over their heads and Manny left the room, perceiving some unspoken wish or appointed task. "If you wouldn't mind," Damion said to them. "I know you may have things you wish to discuss and you may be tired. I would also like to speak to Audrey alone, if you wouldn't mind letting Manny settle you." 

"Not at all," Relena said, sensing something like determination from him. She glanced at Audrey, but the women wasn't looking at them. She had her hands clasped over her arms, staring at the wall, though her eyes sometimes shifted to Damion. Strangely, she did not smile, not even a little. Her expression was cold, her eyes dark and troubled. Trying not to wonder, Relena grabbed Heero's arm, smiling at Damion. "Thank you for telling us about this and having us down here." 

"It was my pleasure," he said, smiling back at her. "Thank you for coming by." 

"Damion," Heero said suddenly, arms crossed. "A word with you?" 

Relena blinked at him and let go of his arm. 

Damion nodded. "I'd like to say something to you too. In the hall?" 

Heero nodded and turn to smile at Relena with such a sweet expression and soft eyes, she felt her heart jump. "Relena, you can go to your room if you'd like," he said, not to meaning to be offensive, but indicating he wanted to speak to Damion alone. He lowered his voice for her alone, touching the lapels of her coat with his hands, whispering over her head. "I'll come find you later." 

She nodded, returning his smile. The three of them rose and exited the room, leaving Audrey sitting alone, watching them with seeming unconcern. As Relena shut the door behind them, Manny came striding back up the hall, returning from wherever he had gone, smiling brightly. 

"Manny, can you take Relena to her rooms?" Damion asked as soon as he approached. 

Manny blinked, stopped in tracks and waved at Relena to follow him. She joined him somewhat hesitantly, casting a glance over her shoulder. 

"Is something going on?" she asked as soon as they were out of earshot. 

"My Master and future Mistress seem to be having a disagreement of some sort, if that's what you mean." 

"A disagreement over what?" Relena asked. 

"I'm not really at liberty to say." 

Her brain began to cycle through a variety of possible conflicts. "Is Damion thinking of going out into the war zone?" 

Manny gave her a troubled look. "That's not what I meant, and I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to discuss that either." 

She never heard Manny so formal. Relena felt a slight chill settle in her stomach as Damion's personal servant led her to her room. 

***** 

Once Manny had led Relena away, Damion turned to Heero expectantly, noticing how the gundam pilot's angular eyes followed Relena. To look at him, the man might have been quietly drowning in that girl. He seemed so much calmer than Damion had ever seen him, rock steady, but that comment he had made about the rooming situation was confusing. 

"Heero," Damion said, desperate to redirect the focus. "Is anything the matter with you and Relena?" 

"No," he replied, turning his head back toward Damion, his face devoid of all outward emotion. "We're taking a hiatus from physicality is all. I proposed to her." 

Damion felt the repercussion of shock all the way up his spinal cord. It eventually shook his jaw loose and he smiled. "Why didn't you tell me?" 

"It's not official yet. I haven't gotten her a ring, but I'm really close." 

"Congratulations anyway. Have you set a date?" 

"Not precisely. Sometime in the spring." 

"Does anybody else know?" 

"Just Zechs and Noin. Relena might have told Hilde too. I'm not sure. We don't want it to get out too soon." 

Damion nodded thoughtfully. "You will be very happy together." 

"Thanks." There was a sudden and awkward pause. 

"Heero..." he began. 

"What's going on with you and Audrey?" Heero said abruptly. "I know that last time I was here I didn't pay as much attention as I should have, but something is off." 

His face felt stiff. "Not a whole lot has changed since I saw you last, Heero," he replied. 

Heero's face became stonier if possible. "She doesn't care about you at all?" 

Air filled his lungs, oxygen to a man suffocating. He minimized his reaction as well as he could. "I don't know," he said honestly. 

"She seems awfully cold to me." 

He tried to quell the uneasiness, the sense of unfairness, the haunting images and emotions attached to her that floated through his thoughts by the minute. "She's not very emotional," he replied in her defense. 

"Neither am I. That's why I'mtelling you this. I knew when I first laid eyes on her that she wouldn't be what you want." 

Heero's words, spoken so blandly, almost in a monotone, felt like a punched in the gut. "What are you saying?" he asked, turning his head down, clenching his teeth. "That she doesn't love me and never will? That I ought to stop wasting my time? I'm in too deep, Heero." 

"I know," Heero said quietly. "What are you planning with the Gardiner situation? You've been secretive about it far too long." 

"I can't discuss that with you." 

"Are you going out there?" 

"I can't discuss it with you, Heero. I'm sorry." 

"Does she let you touch her?" he said, changing the topic again. 

"How do you mean?" Damion hedged. Heero's answering expression was enough. "No." 

"She doesn't want...?" 

Damion shook, his hands jerking as he cut Heero off sharply. "I don't know what she wants," he said in a hoarse whisper, his throat dry. "She's hot and cold in turns. She encourages me and then turns wild when I get too close to her. I'm in a fever all day long thinking about her and worrying about it." His armed jerked again, his breaths ragged. 

"Calm down," Heero said. "Maybe it isn't you." 

"What do you mean?" 

"Maybe it's something else. I don't think it's natural for a girl to turn wild like that, not with someone like you." 

The veiled suggestion made him feel nauseous. "You think maybe something has happened to her? That someone...?" 

"I don't know. It's worth considering." 

Damion noticed his breathing had changed, growing deeper and quicker. "Why wouldn't she say something?" 

"I don't think it would be easy to say." 

"I love her." 

"Maybe she doesn't believe that, or can't. I didn't for a long time." He looked over his shoulder, in the direction Relena had gone. "Damion," he said. "If she doesn't love you, she will eventually. Maybe you need to back off and just let it happen." 

He felt cold. "I don't know." 

Nodding slowly, as if he had assessed all that he could and knew he could do nothing else, Heero turned and walked away without another word. 

Damion turned back to the room, pausing to breath for a moment, gathering his courage and his thoughts. Knocking on the door, he entered. 

She had not moved, leaning against the table with her arms still crossed, staring down at her feet. When he came in, she jumped, looking more startled and out-of-sorts than he was used to seeing her. 

"Hey," he said. 

She smiled at him faintly and then looked down. "I'm sorry about..." 

"Don't worry about it," he said, brushing her apology aside with a gesture. "I'm over it now. It was a heated moment and I reacted strongly. It's okay." Her eyes followed him as he crossed the room, staying ten feet away from her as he circled to the other end of the table. "I just want to know," he said softly, gathering his courage. 

She waited in breathless silence. 

"When the time comes, will you be able to sleep with me?" 

She bit her lip, dark hair falling over smooth pale cheeks, suffused lightly now with pink. She looked tense, ready to leap in any direction, or perhaps implode within her self. "I..." 

He looked at her, tracing the curves of her jaw line, remembering the texture of her hair between his fingers. He felt his stomach clench in a knot, his breathing quicken, his blood throb in his ears. "I want to make love to you," he gambled in saying. "I don't want to scare you, but that's what I want." 

"I don't know," she finished in a strangled gasp, a hand flying to her face. Were those tears? He stared as the rigid posture of her body as it seemed suddenly to crumble, breaking at the spine and caving inward. He half ran across the room to catch her, afraid she was going to fall, but she straightened suddenly, holding out a hand to stop him a few feet from her. "I'm fine," she said. "I just..." 

"You don't know if on our wedding night we can...?" He couldn't even finish, but the sensuous and seductive images that rolled through his seemed marked with black streaks. "Why not?" 

"Please don't ask," she pleaded, and leaned against the table for support. He moved past her hand and tried to grasp her, but she pulled away, turning her head. "Don't." 

"Don't what?" he asked, putting a hand on her waist. She tensed. With his other hand he touched her face, his fingertips turning her chin toward him so that she was forced to look him in the eyes. "Audrey, I'm not going to touch you more than you want. And I don't understand why you..." he swallowed, sweating suddenly, the words sticking to his throat. "Don't be offended, but please_,_ tell me this: Were you ever raped?" 

Her eyes widened and darkened as she suddenly seemed to be looking inward, not seeing him at all. She twitched in his grasp, half struggling. "No," she said, "please let go." 

He released her and stepped back. "You were never molested?" 

"No." 

"You hate me to touch you then?" 

"No." 

"You're a virgin and you're frightened?" 

"No!" 

"I don't understand." 

"I'm not a virgin." 

He froze at the suddenness, the unexpected reply. He seemed to be choking. "What?" he said, more as an instant reaction to something bewildering than anything else. 

"I'm not a virgin. I've slept with another man." 

Her eyes were dark pools, dark as molasses, hot and cloying. Bright white light seemed to suffuse everything, turning her into a silhouette. There was no sound, no movement, no thought and no voice. He resumed breathing as if he had been drowned, feeling suddenly sick to his stomach. The buzz in his head did not resemble reason. He couldn't seem to make out her face. "How many people have you slept with?" It just came out, painfully. 

"One," she said quickly. "Damion," she reached out as if to touch him. 

"One," he said, drawing a blank and pulling back. "That's not a big deal," he said automatically. "Lots of people have..." 

"I'm sorry," she said, cutting in with an emotional outcry, shaking her head. "Don't make it trivial. I know who you are. It's different with us, I know. Please try to understand." 

"Who?" he demanded. "When? How?" 

"It doesn't matter," she said, biting her lip. "After my mother died." 

"You knew about me then." 

"I knew." 

"You knew you would marry me." 

She closed her eyes, a hot tear sliding down her cheek. "I knew." 

He tried to rationalize. It was very common. One was a small number. Lots of people had sex with multiple people before they ever settled down with someone, and even then in many cases... but it was so radically different from what he expected in his situation. He would never have a virgin girl if he stayed true to her. He would never be anyone's first love. Should that bother him? Did it matter? "Why?" he wanted to know. "Were you in love with somebody else when you found out about me? Or did you do it because of me? Because you hated me even then? You didn't want to have only me?" 

She choked, tears in her eyes. "Oh, God, Damion. I didn't _know_ you then! I've never loved before." 

"That's why?" he repeated in wonder, and he could see in her face that it was. "Not in love? You just wanted sex? Or you just wanted to spite me? You felt trapped, so you...?" 

"I don't know," she said. "My mother was dead. I went to a party. I drank a lot. I remember meeting him. I remember talking to him, but not very well. God, Damion, I was so drunk. I was so fucking drunk." She choked as if she had made some hilarious joke she hadn't the strength to laugh at. "I've never regretted anything so much." 

He couldn't say anything. The scenario didn't make sense to him. It didn't seem real. He couldn't see it. His throat was swelled up. "And now I can't touch you?" he said, reaching for her arm and then pulling back as if she burned. His tears blurred the sight of her. "I can't have your heart, or your love, or your sex." He trembled. He felt his soul was going to break staring at her, so vulnerable, so attractively vulnerable. He didn't know if he wanted to hold and comfort her or shout at her. His passion was wild, untamable. He wanted to break her in two and mend her to him simultaneously. "What part of you can I have?" 

"You weren't supposed to fall in love with me! I told you in the beginning I wouldn't make you a proper wife." Stumbling forward, she pulled up close against him. The proximity was like fire, warm and deadly. She touched his cheek with her thumb, looking into his eyes, begging for some understanding from him. She shook her head repeatedly, little shakes almost like a vibration. "You have pretty eyes, Damion. Has anyone ever told you that?" 

"Like the morning," he said, unable to move at all. "Everyone says that." 

She closed her eyes and pulled her hand back. "If it helps, I don't remember it at all." 

It took a moment for that to register, the scenario of her experience coming clearer. His thoughts took several leaps. He felt sick to his stomach. "You don't remember it?" 

She smiled bitterly. "Not a fucking thing." 

It was a bad joke, and too true. 

"You were that drunk?" 

Her voice was so bitter. "I'm sure that raises you opinion of me." 

"Did you _agree_ to have sex with this man? Don't you remember any of it?" 

She clenched her eyes shut, and her voice trembled. "I think I blacked out before I had even lost all of my clothes. I don't remember any sights, sounds or sensations. Nothing. It is like a gap in memory. I just remember that it happened, and waking up alone in a strange bed, knowing...." She couldn't even look at him now. "Damion, I didn't want to tell you any of this. I wanted to bury it." 

His whole body felt weak. He wanted to comfort her, but his passion was such a strange and wild thing. He was afraid he might accidentally hurt her if he tried to help her now. He wondered how she could have hidden that she wasn't a virgin from him, or had she merely meant to wait until it was too late for him to act on it? But that wasn't his primary interest. "So you say you agreed to do it? How?" 

"I didn't say no," she said. 

Oh God. He didn't know whether to gather her up or stay out of her space. "Audrey," he pleaded, "that could be considered rape. If you're drunk and you don't agree..." 

"It wasn't." 

"Audrey..." 

"It wasn't!" Her eyes flashed, her arms snapping down. It was the first time she had raised her voice to him, and it seemed to appall her. She clamped a hand over her mouth, biting the flesh, tears in her eyes. 

He stopped, letting it go. Would it be easier for him to accept if she said it was rape, if that somehow made her blameless? God, that was an awful thought. 

She wilted into a chair beside him. He didn't realize he was even sitting. "I went to that party to be with boys," she said, drawing out her words one by one, as if on a string. "I didn't know what I wanted, but I remember hating my mother." 

He raised his head. "Why?" 

"Because she was dead, and I thought she had crippled me. I knew about you, but I didn't think of you as an actual person. I..." she stopped, flushing, playing with her nails. "It was so stupid." 

It wasn't the act that upset him. He felt he couldn't blame her for what happened. To him, it was rape she refused to admit, perhaps to save her own strength and power. She was the not the type to admit being victimized easily. He would concede that if it were not rape, someone had at least taken advantage of her. He didn't want to think about it. It made him sick and furious. His head spun so badly he couldn't see straight. He thought he might throw up at any moment. 

"Damion," she whispered, touching his shoulder with a soft, gently touch, like feathers. 

How many times did he hear her say his name that way? She looked so vulnerable, so worried for him. How could she say she did not care about him and then look like that? He squeezed his hot eyes shut. She was still miles away from being his. 

"What am I supposed to do now?" he said. "If you won't love me and you can't sexually satisfy me?" 

"Please," she said urgently, her hand dropping away. "I want you to be satisfied. I'm just afraid." 

He stared at her. "You mean if I force you you can." 

"Damion..." 

He let his head fall into his hands. "I don't know if I could do that. I don't think so." 

"Don't think that's what has to happen. I don't know what it's like really. What I hear is so different from what I know." 

All of her memories were bad, and who didn't rely more on their own experience than a stranger's advice? He just looked at her. "You don't love me at all?" 

She bit her lip. 

"Forget I asked," he said. "I promised I wouldn't pressure you. I...." He stood up, suddenly needing to move. 

She slumped in her chair as if defeated. "Will you send me home?" she asked in a voice that sounded so lost. His chest ached. He wanted to love her so badly, but he couldn't find it in him to touch her. 

"No," he said. 

She lifted her head. "Why not? Because you love me?" 

"Because you will make a good queen. I won't tell anyone about your history. It doesn't matter to anyone but me and I..." He clamped his teeth shut. He couldn't say truthfully that he didn't care at all. It would take a little time to get used to it. He needed space and air. "Excuse me, I have work to do." 

"Damion!" She halted him with his name and he stopped, unable to refuse her voice. 

"What?" 

"Do you hate me now?" 

"No," he said truthfully. "I'll get over it. It was just a shock." 

"You are disappointed." 

"I expected something different." 

"But you don't resent me?" 

"No." 

"Do you still love me?" 

He stared at her, trembling, and moved toward her again. Taking her hand, he pulled her up from the chair and touched her face, sliding his fingers across her neck and threading them in her hair. "Yes," he said, looking into her eyes. "Don't you believe me when I say I do?" 

"Damion..." 

"Because I really do," he said, and watched her pale cheeks flush with a pink stain. "I wish I could make you happier." 

"You do make me happy," she whispered right on top of his words. "I would be honored to be your wife. I just don't think..." 

"Then don't think," he interrupted. "Because when I look at you I can't think of anything else. When I think of you..." 

She shook her head, dislodging his hands. He let his fingers trail down her neck and fall at his side. Her face was all one color again, soft white skin, cool as marble. If not for the tears clinging to her eyelashes, she could have been a statue. "I've never felt anything like that." 

He just looked at her, crushed seeing her honesty. His chest felt tight, his heart constricted. He pulled away, needing some air. "Good day, my lady," he fumbled, and fled the room.   
  


PLEASE PLEASE review! It takes a lot of energy to write one of these a week. Just click the button and write something, all right? It would seriously _make_ my day. Thanks to all of you who cheered me up! I loved ALL of your reviews and I hope you all review again! Okay, now click the review button! 


	16. Call to Arms

A lot of stuff happens in this chapter, so brace yourselves! Please review on everything that surprises you (if you're at all surprised) anything you liked and anything you felt was unnecessary clutter, awkward, slow or rushed. I take criticism and compliments, so please don't be shy! ^_~   
  
  
  
  


Temper the Soul 

Chapter 16 

by zapenstap 

  
  


Audrey stood in front of a small, stained glass window, staring out over the city. As dusk settled over the quiet houses she grew more and more anxious, terrified of what she had done, of what was to happen because of it. Her body trembled still from the horror of her revelation to Damion, of all that had been so haphazardly said and done. Confessions had spilled from her throat, wrenched from deeply buried graves by the demand in his eyes. And she found herself panicking, unable to stop it, unable to soften the blows or even control her own reactions. The crushed look in his eyes when he took leave of her smote her heart. There seemed to be no apologies to make, no words of comfort. For a flash second she had considered offering to give herself to him there in that room, and the idea had almost seemed overwhelmingly attractive and equally horrifying to her. She didn't know what was happening. 

Wilting at the window, she leaned forward to press her face against the cool glass. 

She had not seen or heard a word from him since he had flown from her presence, looking for all the world like she had stabbed him in the heart. 

Abruptly she was aware of movement in the palace. Pulling away from the window, she headed toward the more widely used hallways, drawn my the noise of hurried speech and running footfalls. 

She halted a serving girl by the sleeve, matching her face with her name instantly. "Mary, what is this commotion?" 

"An ambulance at the gates, my lady first choice," the girl replied, and seemed excited. Her face was flushed as she looked into Audrey's face, seeming embarrassed and pleased simultaneously. "I am sent to inform his Highness Prince Damion. You have a favor to ask of me?" 

"An ambulance? Has there been an accident?" 

"I don't know know, Mistress. Rumor is that someone injured demanded to be brought here. Is there something else I can do for you?" 

"No. Thank you." The girl was looking at her eagerly, with a strange sort of sweet reverence, not as if Audrey were of a higher class and naturally superior, but with willingly bestowed honor. 

"Prince Damion is waiting, my Lady. Do you offer your Lord any salutation I can deliver?" . 

"Not at this time," she replied, and figured out what it was about the girl's behavior toward her that was so strange. It was respect for her position as Damion's consort. Mary had the look of a girl smitten by a crush on someone out of her reach, and had transferred the love she wished for herself to the woman in the place she dreamed of being. How many young girls in this city, in this palace, fancied themselves in love with Damion? 

Audrey felt a pang in her breast and guilt in her conscience. Could she take him any more for granted? But despite her shame, knowledge of his desirability did not change anything in her heart. She wished she had the innocence of this girl, the willingness to please and the simplicity to love without fear or discretion. Before the girl could read anything in her face, she turned away, rushing along the hallway toward to the source of the commotion, determined to distract herself from these frightening contradictions. 

"What did you say to him?" 

Audrey stopped, surprised to see Julia in the hall, garbed in a flowing green gown of a color like summer grass, her golden hair braided about her head like a crown. Audrey unconsciously straightened, feeling dark and pale in Julia's presence, like a shadow on snow or pale starlight in the darkness, not emitting enough light by which to see. She felt drained of her power and emotions, weak, cold and dried out, but she held her head high. 

She could not reply. 

***** 

Relena sat up in a chair with her back perfectly straight, her hands clenched over knees pressed tightly together, both feet flat on the floor. She had unwound her hair and let it fall over her shoulders and though she tried to look relaxed, she knew her eyes must be hard as moonstones, reflecting the furious movement of her thoughts. 

When Heero opened the door to her room she couldn't help jerking more than she needed to, turning her head to drink in the sight of his face. He shut the door behind him, casting a look over his shoulder at her. She met his eyes, comforted by the resolution she found there, the cool analytical surety that saw Heero Yuy through anything. 

"What are you thinking?" he asked her, removing his jacket and hanging it over her chair. 

"That my brother is dead and Duo soon will be." He avoided her eyes as if he had something better to focus on, but she knew he wasn't looking at anything. "I know they're just the worst of my fears," she said, "but I can't help being afraid." 

He sat heavily in the chair across from her and did not reply. 

She didn't want to talk about it either. "What did you talk to Damion about?" 

"Audrey." 

She smiled faintly and looked down at her hands. Strange that Heero's precise observations about people had taken this new turn. It was like Heero to project his kindness to what he cared about, though in the past he would have ignored relationships or thought it beneath his concern, but he was so intelligent and good-hearted that when he allowed himself to care, he cared a great deal. 

A heavy knock sounded at her door, beaten furiously. Both she and Heero snapped to attention and to their feet, finding each other's hands almost unconsciously. 

"Heero! Relena!" 

She shared a look with Heero, startled and questioning, raising a hand halfway to her chest in surprise. 

Manny burst into the room, grasping the edge of the door in both hands, eyes wide, his usual amiable expression gone as he looked at them with grim seriousness. 

Fear flamed in Relena's heart. Every nerve was as tense as strung wire. "What? Manny, what is it? Is it Damion?" 

Heero's jaw clenched. "Did something happen between Damion and Audrey?" 

Manny shook his head furiously. "Well, yes, but never mind that," he said with distracted concern, seemingly possessed of anxious energy as burst into the room like a train and began to straighten things Relena didn't even know were out of order, as if that was why he had been sent there. But the look he suddenly flashed her plunged daggers in her hurt. "It's you're brother." 

Relena lurched forward. Heero's hand gripping hers kept her grounded. "You got a call from him?" she cried. 

"Not a call," Manny said hurriedly. "Come with me." Gripping Heero's hand, Relena followed him. "He's been injured," Manny said quickly, ushering them both out of the room with a grim face. "He's in the palace. His fighter plane crashed in the airport fifteen minutes ago. He was rushed here by ambulance." 

Panic seized her, shivers running up her arms. "Oh my God! How did he get here? What happened? " 

"An ambulance?" Heero demanded. 

Manny answered all of their questions at a mile a minute. "He refused to be taken to the hospital. Don't worry. They say his injuries look more serious than they are. He apparently patched a call through to Cinq and learned you were here. His landing was messy and done without the guidance of air traffic control, but he's all right." 

Other people were rushing through the halls, more perhaps, than even this accounted for. 

"Damion has received an entreaty," Manny added. "Just a few minutes ago. Heero, you have a call from Preventor Headquarters if you want to take it." 

Relena's heart froze in her chest as she looked back over her shoulder at Heero, who seemed to be staring at nothing straight ahead. "No..." she said, stopping in front of him and turning, putting a hand on his chest. "Heero..." 

He took her arms and looked down at her with calm, deep eyes. "I don't know what they want yet." That was a lie. 

She stared up at his face, knowing her thoughts were transparent to him. They were the same as his unspoken ones. If Zechs was shot from the sky and had survived, everyone would know it. There would be a reaction. Now things planned long in secret were unfolding faster than she had wanted them to, even when she had bemoaned so much delay. The Preventors were calling in their reserves. A full frontal assualt from combined peace-keeping forces and participating leaders would be staged against the anarchist mobs. Their own people would be pulled out, the dissenters crushed. They would ask for the assistance of all the gundam pilots. "Heero, if you have to go, go," she said, but her eyes were hot and seemed to ache in her skull in time with her heart. 

"Miss Relena, Heero," Manny said, seemingly uncomfortable and a little flustered by their delay. 

"I'll be careful," Heero whispered, touching her lips with two fingers. He looked at Damion's servant and nodded. "Lead the way." 

Manny led them through the halls, past what seemed like a hundred people rushing about. Relena's throat was tight. She couldn't believe the activity, even over something like this. What sort of call had Damion received? 

"In here," Manny said, guiding them through the guest quarters until they came to a room surrounded by people. "Hey, everybody!" Manny shouted. "Stop lolling about around here. Make way for his sister. Carter, Jackson, all of you over there, Thompsan needs help with the supply cases. Katie, Samson, talk to Oswold and the guards. Come on, people. We don't have a whole lot of time." 

"Manny!" a young wide-eyed girl squeaked. "Where is the prince?" 

"On his way here, probably, Lu. You all want to be standing around when he gets here?" 

They scattered like quail. 

I the suddenly cleared hallway, Manny grinned and beckoned Heero and Relena to the doorway. "He was really irritable when they brought him here," he warned them over his shoulder, and held the door aside for them to enter. "Everybody's trying to be helpful, but you know how it is." 

They walked past him into the room. 

"Zechs," Relena whispered at the man on the bed. His preventor's coat was hung over a chair, torn at the sleeve and along the bottom. It was stained with blood. Zechs himself was propped up in the bed, white bandages wrapped around his chest and a wad of cotton pressed to one side of his head. His hair fell about his face, tangled and windblown. His face seemed recently washed, but there was a laceration beneath his right eye and dirt and grime still plastered to his upper forehead and neck. 

A man was sitting in a chair beside him with a kit of basic medical supplies open on the table beside him. Relena supposed he was a doctor, perhaps a physician employed by the palace. At any rate, he smiled at her when they entered, packed up his supplies and quietly left the room. 

"I'll be in the hall if you need me," Manny said with a smile, and followed the doctor out. 

Zechs raised his head as the door closed, ice blue eyes catching hers briefly. "So you _are_ here." He looked at Heero. "And you too." 

"What happened?" Heero asked as Relena moved to occupy the seat the doctor had vacated, scanning Zech's bruises and bandages with her eyes. 

He turned to her briefly. "I'm fine, Relena. I got a little cut up in the landing was all. It was my plane that got shot up." 

"Can you still fight?" Heero asked him. 

"I'll be bed ridden for awhile." His stare was icy cold. "Are you going out there, Yuy?" 

Relena bit her lip as Heero nodded slowly but firmly. "If that's what Lady Une wants," he said in a monotone. Relena tried to feel brave and not let anything show, but her whole body felt stiff and cold as if saturated with ice water. 

Zechs' expression didn't change a hair. "Your friends Quatre Winner and Trowa Barton are already at Headquarters. They'll want you there no later than tomorrow morning if you're going." 

Relena's heart beat slow and loud in her own ears. She couldn't say anything as Heero turned his eyes on her silently, watching her twist the corners of Zech's bedsheets in her hands. She knew he had to go. She knew he would be needed. "Maybe we should let you sleep," she said to Zechs, forcing herself to smile and hold her head high. "And Heero can take that call." 

Heero was still looking at her, standing straight and proud like a soldier, but his midnight blue eyes focused on her like she was only thing that existed. Her pleasant mask collapsed as she snuck a look at him from the side, tilting her head to peer at him from beneath her hair. He looked like he was trying to hide his frustration and didn't know what to say. 

Abruptly, something flashed across his face. "Relena, I'll be right back," he said. 

"Heero?" Relena said, standing up. 

Zechs scowled. "Yuy, what...?" 

"I need to talk to Damion," Heero said, and turned to the door before she could read his expression. "I'll be right back." 

***** 

Audrey lifted her head high, raising the tilt of her chin. 

Julia's heavily made-up eyes swept over her, seeming to look down on her despite her shorter stature. She shook her head as she approached and the golden jewelry about her throat jangled, clinking with a strange music. "A girl in my position learns to listen to rumor," she said crisply, and smiled one of her cool, devilish smiles. "I knew your history before you came here, so don't think you have anything to hide from me. What did you tell him tonight?" Audrey's body seemed to become very heavy, her heart dropping out of chest like a black ball. She knew... "I saw him leave you. I think you broke his heart." 

"I didn't mean to," she said as evenly as she could manage. 

"What did you say to him?" 

"I told him I didn't love him." 

Julia's expression was awful to behold and take in. Her face, usually reflecting some secret amusment even at the worst news, was flat and chill. After a few moments, Julia tilted her head slightly so that her eyes stared from beneath her eyebrows. "And why would you say that?" 

Audrey struggled to speak. "Because I don't." 

Julia's eyes did not change. "Yes you do." 

She shook her head. "No." 

"Why not?" 

"I don't believe in love, Julia." 

Julia jerked her chin up expressively, eyes flashing. "What difference does that make?" 

"Believing makes it real." 

Julia frowned at her for a moment. "You may be right about that," she said quietly. Her expression relaxed as she scrutinized Audrey closely, her manner flowing more smoothly, like a rushing stream. "You do a beautiful job of looking like you have it all together. You will make an excellent queen if you can hold that in a crisis, and I rather believe you can." She paused. "You know him and you know his work. He would be a fool to throw you away, and he's not a fool." 

_Because you would make a good queen._

Julia shook her head, smiling slightly. "But you should trust him with your heart. Don't you want someone to love you?" 

This hurt too much. "Please," she said. "I can't just..." 

"Yes you can," Julia cut in. "It just takes a little faith and courage. I am a hypocrite to say it, I know, but he loves you and he believes you have it in you to love him. Do you find him beneath you? Ill-matched" 

"No." 

"Unkind?" 

"No." 

"Immature?" 

"Not really." 

"Not attractive?" 

"I'm attracted to him." 

"Then in spite of what fears you may have, you do want to share his bed?" 

The room felt warm. Her skin was hot and flushed. "I..." 

"His touches don't excite you? They turn you off?" 

"No." 

"Would you want him to continue?" 

"It is not so simple." 

Julia shook her head. "Do you want to please him? Would giving him pleasure please you?" 

Her heart quickened, her mouth felt dry. "Yes." 

Julia's face softened, her eyebrows drawing low in sympathy. "Does it hurt you that you've hurt him?" 

It did, but she only closed her eyes. 

"My dear first choice," Julia said in a low, practical tone. "When you truly don't care about someone, telling them so does not hurt. It is a relief. I know. I have done it. Do you want Damion to quit bothering you and be gone?" 

She felt shaky and the sensation was frightening. "No," she said. "I love him, I just..." She clapped a hand over her mouth, trembling. "Oh God." Had she said that? She loved him and lied about it. She didn't mean to. Her words lurched into motion and quickened in speed. "I... don't love him the way he wants," said tried to clarify, knowing it was too late, feeling a clench in her stomach. "I don't yearn for him. The world does not _circle_ around him. I..." 

"But you care about him?" 

"Yes," she somehow said it simply. "He loves me. He..." she couldn't think of any words to describe the quality of soul that placed him in her high esteem. She knew that she loved him in some sense, yet she still saw him as nothing more than a man, not an icon of desire. "Is it not only friendship?" she asked quietly. "I do not yearn for him as they say lovers do." 

Julia shrugged her shoulders slightly. "Perhaps you love him as a friend, but that is more than he believes. And you say he is also sexually attractive to you. If I can speak frankly, I think you are just afraid." 

She swallowed. 

Julia continued in those suggestive, instructional tones. "If it's love, it must be love that runs deeper than your mood if your logic cries out against it. But then, you have not accepted his love yet, have you? You can't miss something you don't really have. The kind of feeling he desires from you may come if you trust yourself to fall and _let_ him love you." 

Audrey closed her eyes, felt her heart race. It sounded so wonderful, and yet so terrifying. The fire in his eyes, the urgency with which he touched her was almost violent, conquering. To let him really _have_ her would require losing something of herself to him, letting him change her to fit with him, and yet the thought of his presence being warm and constant once the struggle had ended was comforting, almost surreal. And he would have to change too, wouldn't he? But what if grew bored and left her, came to hate her, in body or in heart, as she was taught would inevitable happen? Her throat consticted. She missed him even thinking he would abandon or hurt her. She missed him. The thought surprised her. When she opened her eyes, there seemed to be more lights in the room, everything shimmered so strangely. "I..." 

"I hear he has received an entreaty to the west," Julia continued, assessing her with those cool eyes and smooth expressions. "Pressure has been on the Council and they have reluctantly agreed to let him go. The palace staff is in an uproar preparing for his immediate departure. If you want to love before you wed, you need to speak to him now." 

"Oh God," she said, and felt butterflies in her stomach. "Where is he?"   


  


***** 

"Where is Damion?" Heero asked Manny the second he was in the hall. 

"Heading this way, I think," Manny said. "Is something wrong with...?" 

"No. I just need to ask him..." 

At that moment Damion approached, his expression cluttered with a dozen priority concerns that had seized his attention all at once. Manny leaned back against the wall and out of mind, duty discharged. 

"Damion," Heero began, shifting his attention. "I have a favor to ask you." 

"I'm going to the west," Damion said, seemingly distracted. "Though not with you. I am going to a safe place to direct a conteroffensive and a retreat in cooperation with other nations, but I am still going." 

Manny apparently had heard this already by his lack of reaction, but Heero's attention snapped back a little. He had wondered as much, with the way Damion refused to discuss Taravren's obviously intimate connection with the crisis in the west, intimate considering Gardiner was native of Taravren and rabid against it. It was only a matter of time before the Prince Regent of Taravren was pulled in to help in the organization of ground troops from afar with the other leaders. To Heero, knowing he would be leaving himself tomorrow morning, for the thick of battle in his case, it almost seemed anti-climatic. And yet... "Damion, what about your marriage to Audrey? How long will you be gone?" 

"Not past the wedding with luck," he said without distinguishing tone A small, bitter laugh escaped his throat. "Terese would have my head on a platter if the date had to be changed now. It can not really be changed." He shook his head. "She says she can't love me, Heero. You were right about both things." He shook his head. "You were right." 

He didn't like being right all the time. The only one to ever prove him wrong consistently was Relena. "She'll come around," he forced out through his teeth, not even really sure what he was saying, but the wounded look in Damion's eye bothered him now as it had before, which surprised him. "Isn't that what you would say to me?" 

Damion blinked. "I'm sorry, Heero. I didn't mean to involve you in this. What was it you wanted to say to me? How is Zechs? How is Relena?" 

"Zech's is a soldier. Hid injuries aren't serious, though he can't fight," Heero said, letting it go. "But I have a favor to ask you." 

"Anything." 

"Loan me a few hundred dollars. I'll pay it back." 

Damion blinked. "For what?" 

"To buy a ring. I want to marry Relena tonight."   
  
  
  
  


PLEASE review this story. I'm writing it faster, but I need more reviews to keep going. Please tell me what you think. The longer and more honest the review the more it helps me, but anything is appeciated! Thank all of you so much for reading. I'm at the part I've wanted to write the entire time, so please come back and keep reviewing or I may never make it! O_O 


	17. The Evening Before

Warning: Extended Lime and a lot of sap.

Temper the Soul

Chapter 17

By zapenstap

Damion stared at him in amazement. "Are you serious?" 

Heero felt more calm than anything else, almost as if he was moving through a dream. "I'm serious. Can you lend the money to me?" 

"Sure," Damion said, blinking a little in surprise. Abruptly he grinned widely and laughed. Smiling, he clasped Heero's arm and looked into his face. "God, Heero, it's already evening. Do you have the ring picked out?" 

"Yeah." He hadn't really thought about the details yet; he was just ready to do this, desperate to do it. She had waited for so long and he couldn't leave her unclaimed. He didn't know how long he would be gone, he couldn't even be sure if he would come back. One could never be sure with battles, though he told himself he would not die this time. Strange. It usually never mattered, as long as the mission was completed. 

Damion shook his head, seeming to shiver with energy. "If you're serious..." 

"I am. There's a church I know of in the city..." 

"Pastor Howel," Manny said, and looked contrite for interrupting. "He mentioned you to me." 

That guy remembered him? "Will he marry us?" Heero asked Damion. 

"I'm sure he would, Heero." Damion stared at him for a moment thoughtfully and then shook his head. "God I envy you. Manny, can you get Heero outfitted for this?" 

"You bet." 

"I don't need special clothes," Heero protested. "I just need a ring for Relena and..." 

"You're not getting married in your street clothes," Damion interrupted with a broad grin. "I won't allow it. It will be a lot faster if you let me help. I'll have someone pick the ring up for you. Did you talk to Relena yet?" 

"I need to make some calls," Manny cut in quickly, almost more excited than Damion. Heero felt like he was losing sense of time and control as Manny looked at Damion expectantly, tapping his foot. Damion waved a hand and Manny pushed away from the wall with a grin, bounding down the hallway and around the corner. Heero had the sudden impression that things were moving entirely too fast. 

The magnitude of what was about to happen slowly took hold in his mind. How soon before he stood at the altar with her? His mouth was dry. Her cool slender hands in his hands, promises spoken to God and the witnesses present, his ring slipped on her finger, a promise-sealing kiss... A battlefield on the morrow. Lovemaking in between. His knees felt weak. Her eyes blazed in his mind, azure with love of him and the strength of will that lit them afire. 

"I have a few preparations to make for my own departure before I can get you to the Church," Damion was saying. "I'll send Manny and Terese your way in a few minutes."

Heero nodded absently. "I need to talk to Relena."

He hardly noticed when Damion strode out of sight. Instead he turned on his heel and pushed open the door. "Relena," he said quietly. The girl was sitting by her brother's side, her hands folded demurely in her lap, but she looked up when he spoke her name. "I need to speak with you." 

She smiled sweetly, a rosy hue rising in her pale cheeks. When she turned away from him a diplomatic expression fell over her face. She caught his eye briefly as she said something softly to her brother. Zechs waved her off and she stood, approaching Heero with a fluid grace. As she came close, she bent her head and then looked up at him. The lights dazzled in her eyes. "Heero, what's the matter?" 

His own eyes softened as he took her hand. "Come out into the hall." 

She cast a glance over her shoulder at her brother and then followed him out, closing the door softly behind her. He held onto her hand, guiding her across the hallway and into a quiet, unused room on the other side. Flipping on the light switch, he pulled her in after him, closing the door softly. She stepped past him, looking around, but there was nothing in the room. There was only her.

"Heero..." she began.

He turned her toward him by putting a hand around her waist from behind and touching her neck with his other hand slightly. She let herself be rotated and he stepped closer, pulling her within millimeters of an embrace, his hand on the small of her back. 

"Marry me tonight."

"What?" Her eyes widened.

"Tonight," he repeated, and seeing her expression, grasped her hand and knelt at her feet. This was the way it was done, right? "I know this is sudden, but be my wife tonight and…"

She knelt down with him, falling forward on her knees. Lifting his head with her hands, she kissed him tenderly on the mouth. "I will, Heero," she said and there was a sudden sense of urgency in her eyes. "When?"

"Now," he gasped, and hulling them both to her feet, opened the door. 

Terese appeared in the hallway with Manny, smiling at them and biting her lip. "God, Relena," she said giddily with a half-suppressed sigh and a smile. "You are getting married?" Manny grinned. 

Relena smiled herself, sweet and energetic, like a young girl's smile, and nodded her head quickly. She looked at Heero and squeezed his hand. He could see the energy about her, the barely contained excitement and happiness as she wavered between staring at him and looking at everything else. 

Terese clapped her hands to her mouth and let out a giggle. "Well come on, you lovebirds! Manny has a tuxedo for you, Heero, and we've found Relena a dress to wear. It's not really a wedding dress," Terese apologized, "but it's white and… oh, enough talking. There isn't a lot of time!"

"My brother," Relena murmured. She released Heero's hand reluctantly and turned in a half-run, her hair brushing out in front of his face. He felt like he should catch her and pull her close, but she only went back to the sick room and hulled open the door. "Milliardo! Milliardo, I'm getting married tonight…"

Whatever reaction Zechs made was muffled as the door closed on Relena's heels, but moments later it burst open again as Zechs lurched against the doorway, one hand wrapped around his bandaged chest. Relena was shielded from Heero's site by Zech's body, and now that she was out of site he really wanted to see her. 

"Tonight, Yuy? When you may die tomorrow?"

He didn't say anything, but something in his expression must have been answer enough.

Zechs glared at him. "Not without me you're not. It's about time I gave her away," he said and looked at Manny and Terese. "You work here?"

They nodded. Manny bowed. "I'll send someone up to help you, lord Peacecraft. Are you sure you are well?"

"Well enough," he said. 

"I'll take care of you then," Manny said with a thoughtful look, and turned to Heero. "And I need you to describe the store and the ring for your lady, sir. And then we need to get you dressed and to the church."

Manny separated Heero from the others, leaving Relena in Terese's care. He soon found himself in a room near the lobby being suited up in a black and white tuxedo. Manny made all sort of quick little adjustments to it, and though Heero found it slightly odd to be waited on by Damion's servant, Manny seemed to have an I-do-this-all-the-time attitude and managed to have him outfitted in three minutes when Heero quit trying to help. He was allowed to stare at himself in the mirror for another two anxious minutes before Damion knocked on the door and beckoned them to the car waiting to take them to the Church.

*****

Relena could hardly still her breathing as Terese led her to her own room and tossed a white dress at her arms. Relena caught it with some surprise. It was made of silk and of an old, elegant style with a scooped neck, long sleeves and a skirt slightly longer than she was. It was perhaps not something she would have picked out for herself, but when Terese helped her put it on and she stared at herself in mirror, she felt like an angel. The sleeves had to be unbuttoned at the wrist to fit on her arms, they were so tight, but the buttons were silk and embroidered in white; it was beautiful. The dress seemed to be all of one material from the sleeves to the hem, but there was a bit of lace about the scooped neck. 

"Who's dress is this?" she asked, touching her throat. Terese gestured for her to sit on a stool in front of the mirror and she did as she was bid. Grasping at combs and pins, Terese began to shape her hair, pulling half of it up into an intricate bob of curls and ribbon on the top of her head, letting the rest hang straight over her shoulders. Two strands hung curled over on either side of her head, framing her face delicately. The curling iron and the bobby pins changed hands faster than Relena could keep track. 

"Damion's mother's," Terese replied, taking a bobby pin from her mouth. "It was a gift to Audrey but she is giving it to you with Mrs. Ravineere's blessing."

"Where is Audrey?" Relena asked. "I haven't seen her."

"Here." The door opened and Audrey came in, dressed in light green. "I just heard." Coming to stand by Relena, she opened a velvet box the size of her palm. From it she withdrew what looked to Relena like blue stars on a silver chain.

"To compliment your eyes," Audrey murmured as Relena's mouth parted in wonder. Stooping, Audrey draped a necklace of blue sapphires around Relena's throat and clasped in behind her neck, trying to stay out of Terese's way. "You can borrow it," Audrey said with a smile. 

Relena put a hand to her throat in wonder, her mind going blank of all coherent thought. "How are you and Damion?" she stuttered mechanically as she stared at the jewelry in distraction.

"I have to talk to him," Audrey replied, but she smiled and Relena noticed a certain softening in her eyes. She wondered what it meant. 

"Come on," Terese said to Relena as she finished with her last pin. Thanking her, Relena stood and slipped on the shoes Terese laid at her feet. The heels raised her skirts above the floor so she would not trip, and she smoothed her hands along her dress, pausing for a moment to stare at herself in the mirror.

"The dress is old and new, the necklace is blue and borrowed. You look beautiful. Let's go," Terese said, and pulled her out the door.

*****

Heero thought he would see Relena, but apparently she was coming separately with Terese and Zechs. He was suddenly so nervous he hardly gave what she was doing any thought, though the vacancy left by her absence bothered him. They arrived at the Church in silence. As far as Heero knew, no one in the Palace knew Damion and Manny had even left, except perhaps the guards at the gates, but Damion assured him it wouldn't matter as he would be back soon enough. 

Heero recognized Pastor Howel as he entered the Church and was welcomed with a warm handshake. He was surprised the man remembered him. The pastor was decked out in his ceremonial robes and seemed a little grave as he looked Heero over, and he smiled worriedly at Damion too. The Church was empty save for a few staff members and volunteers, everyone scurrying to light candles and prepare the altar. 

"Are you sure about this, young man?" the pastor asked him privately as they all moved into the sanctuary. He began to recite the wedding vows Heero had already memorized. Heero nodded and responded to the questions he was asked with as much surety as he felt. Yes, he loved her. Yes, he knew her family and friends and had their blessing. Yes, he understood this was meant to be a lifelong, faithful commitment to this one girl. He was thrilled and scared and conscious that he would be responsible for making their marriage work. He understood that kind of dedication. He was nervous, but he was ready. 

"You are going to war tomorrow?" Pastor Howell asked quietly.

"Yeah."

"And that's the reason for this sudden hurry?"

Heero nodded and knew he must look troubled.

They came to the altar and the Pastor smiled at him. "Have you a ring?" 

"He does," Manny said, and fished a box from his pocket. "I'm starting to get a good idea of the value of these things, Master Damion," he said, hefting the box a few times and then handing it to the prince.

"You can hold it for me until I need it," Heero said to Damion without thinking about what that meant, but Damion's surprised and gratified expression was something to see. 

"Here comes the bride," Manny whispered, and bowed out, moving to the side of the room to stand witness.

All heads turned. Moments later the door swung open and Zechs entered the room, formally dressed and leaning on one crutch to ease his walking, Relena on his other arm. Terese ducked in behind them, scurrying along the side of the room to stand with Manny, taking his arm. 

Relena drew all Heero's attention. He didn't notice much about her dress or her hair or her hastily applied makeup, but she was beautiful. There was a feeling of elegance about her, a mixture of elegance and courage and beauty that spun his head. She was a true princess. Her skin was pale as she smiled at him and the light of her eyes seemed to outshine her necklace. He half-moved to greet her on the aisle, but Damion grabbed his wrist and he locked his knees, swallowing and holding his ground. 

In what seemed like an eternity she was standing beside him. Zechs let her go, giving Heero a meaningful look, and sat in the front pew with a look of relief. Heero began to tremble a little. Relena ducked her head, blushing, ever so often sneaking a peek at his face. His whole body felt so shaky he could scarcely remember what came next.

"It's Relena Peacecraft?" the pastor said with a surprised suddenness, dumbfounded. There was a moment of awkward silence as Heero opened his mouth to explain and nothing came out, but Relena smiled in silence and took his hands in hers. Her touch steadied him and he simply nodded, caressing her fingers. Gazing at them a moment in silence, the pastor resumed the ceremony. 

Heero barely understood any of it. He stared into her eyes the whole time, and felt a severe urge to kneel as the opening words washed over him. "Before God…" The vows rang in his ears "to honor and cherish till death…" The "till death" struck a hollow, stubborn cord. All he could really see were her eyes, filling up his entire vision. They seemed to pull him into some other world, where everything was soft and quiet and peaceful, what he imagined death was like. Maybe love and death were the same. He heard her voice when she pronounced "I do." But hers did not echo. They struck his heart and buried deep until he felt he was wounded to the death and could not stand. He wasn't even sure later who spoke first, or if everything happened simultaneously, but his hands began to shake when it was time to exchange rings. Relena had one to give him too, and he remembered later what it felt like when she slipped the cool band of wire around his finger. Yet what really enraptured him was the expression on her face when Damion handed him the box and he opened it before her eyes, giving her both the engagement diamond and the wedding band at once. He knew it was a lovely ring, but her smile and the tear in her eye made its glitter seem dull. He had found it on the computer when looking for clues about Duo. It was even more beautiful in reality; a single round-cut stone with tiny little diamonds embedded in the band halfway around. Slipping it onto her finger was so satisfying. As he held her slender fingers, the rest of the words spoken went by in a blur, waiting in breathless anticipation until the pastor said "man and wife." And then he kissed her, all the shakiness inside pouring into her until he had never been more steady or sure of anything. When he released her lips, the silence in the room deafened his ears. There was no cheer among these few, and the threat of the coming morning deadened the celebration. 

"Take your wife home and love her," the pastor said quietly after a moment in the stillness. Heero looked at him, feeling fuzzy. 

"Go on," Damion urged. "You only have tonight. Where do you want to go?"

"They have a house," Zechs said from the pew. Relena stared at him. "My wedding gift to you, Relena. The house you and Heero wanted outside the city. It's yours if you want it. Spend tonight there. You have to go back anyway."

"Oh, Milliardo," Relena breathed. 

"Go on."

Relena looked back at Heero, her husband, chest heaving, eyes communicating her desire to have him to herself for awhile. 

"I'll have you flown back by private jet immediately," Damion said. "You'll lose time, though, you know."

Heero nodded, gazing at his wife. "That's all right. Thank you," he said, unable to look at anything else but her. He touched her hair abstractedly. 

*****

The limousine that brought Relena to the church took both Heero and Relena to the airport on Damion's orders. He also called the airport and arranged for a private jet to fly them wherever they wanted to go. Once they were gone, the others stood around in the sanctuary silently, absorbing the events that had taken place so quickly.

"Prince Damion," Pastor Howel said.

He turned. "Yeah?"

"I'm glad you dropped by here. How is your mother?"

"She's better."

"And yourself?"

"I'm all right too," he said with a nod. 

Over pastor Howel's head he and caught sight of Audey. She was leaning against a wall in the back, unobtrusively having observed the ceremony from the shadows in the back. He felt his stomach quiver a bit seeing her now, remembering their last encounter and the things she had said. He took a deep breath and asked for pardon from the pastor.

Audrey noticed him approaching her and straightened, lifting her chin high. He didn't touch her or get within ten feet of her. Nor did he try to illicit any response from her with a smile or a joke. "Are you ready to go?" he asked instead, conscious of a void of words and honesty.

Her face seemed to cramp up, her eyes melting like black liquid pools. "Damion," she said in the barest whisper. "I…"

"It's all right," he said, waving a hand, trying hard not to look at her too carefully. "I understand everything. Let's just go home. I have a lot to do anyway."

"You're leaving tomorrow." 

"You'll have time to think things through on your own while I'm gone," he said, trying to sound positive about it but not too personal. God knows, that did not go over well last time. He smiled at her comfortingly, trying to take the sting of regret out of his voice. The way she looked at him hurt. She seemed so sad. He forced himself to turn away from her, swallowing a lump in his throat, afraid he would lose control and start professing things she didn't want to hear again. 

"Damion…" she began, but was cut off when Terese and Manny joined them at the door. He offered Audrey his arm and she took it silently, almost sorrowfully, avoiding looking at him in the face.

Manny and Terese joined them at the door and together they took the other limousine back to the Palace. Audrey sat beside him, hands clenched into fists on her knees. She stared straight ahead, not looking at anyone, seeming lost in another place. He thought he could hear her heart beating and wondered what she was thinking to make it race so fast. 

Terese had curled up next to Manny on the other side of the limo, her head nestled on his shoulder and her body tucked under the crook of his arm, eyes closed. She was exhausted from all the work she had done for him today in preparing for his departure. He ought to give her some vacation time if she wanted it. He knew she had family elsewhere she didn't get to see a lot. Manny was looking at him over Terese's head, and Damion could feel in his gaze a question about Audrey. 

When they arrived at the palace, Manny roused Terese as others came to open the doors, helping the party out. A few had questions as to where Damion had gone, but he didn't answer them. Terese and Manny split off when he told them he had nothing more for them to do. He imagined they would spend some time together since Manny would be going with him in the morning, along with a personal escort of his best guards and a variety of other members among his staff. He needed Terese to stay and look after the palace, though.

To his surprise, Audrey followed him to his study.

"What did you think?" he asked her as he laid his coat over a chair. "About the wedding?"

"Strange and sudden," she replied, closing the door behind her. Her eyes were glued to him. "But it was beautiful."

Damion smiled. Opening a cupboard door, he pulled out a flask of port and poured himself half a glass. "They love each other a lot. Would you like one?" he said, gesturing with the flask in his hand. There were tears in her eyes when he looked up, startling him. "Audrey?"

"I'm sorry," she gasped. 

"About what?" he said, and wondered if he had offended her with the alcohol, considering her history and their last conversation. "I'm sorry," he said hastily. "I didn't mean to insinuate anything. You don't have to have a drink."

She dashed tears from her eyes, lowering her head into her hand. "No," she said emphatically, shaking her head. "About what I said to you before." She looked up at him, her brow creased with pained emotion. "I am _so_ sorry."

He closed his eyes. Setting the flask down, he swallowed. "You don't have to say that," he said, leaning his fists on the table. "I wish you wouldn't. It just reminds me…"

"No," she said, lifting a hand. "I never want to hurt you, but that's not what I meant. I'm sorry I lied to you."

He raised his head slowly, without any clear comprehension of what she was saying.

"I do love you, Damion," she said so quietly he barely understood her. She bit her lip, hot tears on her cheeks, and shut her eyes. "I didn't mean to make you think otherwise consciously. I don't love you the way Heero and Relena love each other maybe, but I…"

His heart leaped into his throat. Lightning raced though his body. He grasped her arms, staring at her, his whole body shaking. "Why did you make me think you didn't care about me?"

She swung her head around as if trying to avoid him, but he relaxed his grip and slowly she opened her eyes and looked at him. They were red from tears. "I care about you," she said. "You mean a great deal to me, but I…" She bit her lip, squeezing her eyes shut. His heart fluttered like a bird. He pushed her hair from her face, breathing hard. "My only experience with any boy is what I told you," she cried, turning her face into his hand. "When I'm with you I think of him. I can't help it. You never did anything wrong, but I think of what happened and I feel like that's how I am. I feel like such a waste. I don't want to raise your expectations. I…"

Startled, he pulled her close and she collapsed against his chest, weeping. She felt so small so close to him, buried in his embrace. He stared over her head, stroking her hair as she cried, smoothing the tears out of her with his hand. 

"It's okay," he whispered. "I forgive you all of that. It's okay."

Calming down, she kissed his neck affectionately and he closed his eyes, holding her more tightly. What inspired her to do that? It felt wonderful. "Damion," she said raggedly, voice raw from her tears. "I do love you. I just…"

He kissed her on the mouth. She shuddered. He realized she was absolutely terrified. He was trying to push through her walls and that frightened her. She was afraid to be loved or admit love. Yet she accepted his kisses because she had to, and thought of that one night when she did. 

"Don't be scared," he said, pushing her hair behind her ears and clearing the tears away from her eyes. Even in this state she looked strong to him. A deep resolve swirled in her eyes, pulled under by her fear. "Tell me honestly. Are you in love with me?"

She leaned her forehead against his shoulder. "I think so," she gasped, and trembled against him. His soul was on fire. God, she was so frightened. How much had it taken to admit that?

"Don't worry," he said gently. "I won't go anywhere."

"You're leaving tomorrow."

"Not for very long. You can write me letters."

"I will, but…" She didn't look at his face, but he felt her stiffen slightly. "We have one night," she said so softly he could barely make out the words. "If you want…" Her hands seemed frozen on his chest. She might have stopped breathing.

He felt hot, dizzy. His face was flushed with heat. "No," he said with effort, taking her hands. They were ice-cold. "Don't feel like we have to do that. You're not ready." 

"I may never be ready." Her eyes were steady, polished like stones, but there was more relief in her voice than disappointment.

He touched her face, feeling the softness of her skin beneath his fingertips. "Yeah, you will be," he said, looking into her eyes. "Write me letters while I'm away. I won't be gone very long." He leaned forward and kissed her neck as she had kissed his. She closed her eyes, standing perfectly still. "Don't be scared," he said into her ear. "I love you. When I come back I'll show you how much. Think of it that way for me."

She opened her eyes, breathing a little deeper. For a moment, she looked at him in silence, tilting her head to one side. He felt his heart stir, feeling her compliment him through her eyes. Smiling at him, she pulled out of his arms and straightened, her posture pulling her body up like a willow tree, shoulders back and head held high. "Damion," she said with more of the composure he was used to. "I think I love you. I want to believe I do, but I…" she closed her eyes. "I want to take care of you for your entire life. That's the best way I can describe it."

"You'll make a good queen and a better wife," he said. "If you love me like that I am content." He laughed, smiling at her, and took her head in her hands, crushing her hair against her face. And she smiled. Her smiles killed him. "God, Audrey, more than content. I wish…" he touched her cheek and pulled his hand away. "When I come back from the west I'll marry you and make you a queen. Just…" he paused. "Think on me," he said. 

"I will. And I'll write."

He kissed her forehead and wished for all that he was worth that he did not have to go tomorrow.

*****

It was closer to day than night when Heero and Relena were dropped off by taxi at the house they had chosen together. Relena stepped out of the car, a small blanket wrapped around her shoulders, her hair loose and flying about her face from sleeping on the plane. But she had never looked lovelier to him than when she stared at that house, his ring glittering on her finger.

It was wood and stone like any house, on a hilltop at the very edge of the city. From this view he could see the stairs leading to the porch, an unpainted wrap-around porch with beautifully carves railings. The house was large, larger than they would need presently, but maybe someday it would support more than just the two of them.

He placed a hand on the small of her back, leading his wife up to the stairs and to the front door. It was locked but there was a key hidden in a crevice just as Zechs had said. Unlocking the door, Heero pushed it open and turned on the lights.

Their furniture was scattered everywhere, hulled from their separate apartments by Zech's command. As long as there was a bed upstairs, he didn't mind the mess. Unconsciously, he shrugged off his coat and tossed it on a chair, part of a dining room set.

"When do you have to leave?" Relena asked him, her eyes glittering blue-green from under her golden-brown hair.

"Early," he said. He thought of all the time he had ever known her, of all they had been through. Their eyes met in the sudden resulting quiet. She released the blanket from her shoulders as he pulled her in for a kiss. Her breath was as sweet now as it had been at the altar, but he could smell the salt on her skin too. Sighing, he broke away from her face and taking her hand, walked softly upstairs. 

Smiling, she followed him. "Heero, I… oh." She tripped at the top of the stairs and he caught her. "Am I really your wife?" she said, searching his eyes as she hung in his arms. 

"Yeah."

The look in her eye brought life to the ideas he had been trying to suppress for months. "Can we…?" she trailed off, smiled and flushed, a pink stain suffusing her cheeks. "I don't want to sound like… but I will miss you and I…" She fell silent.

He stared at her. "We don't have much time."

Somehow they ended up in the master bedroom.

He shut the door and pressed her body back up against it softly, kissing her face and neck with intense tenderness. His hands worked on her clothes, undoing the buttons on her wrists and behind her back between her and the door. She sighed and breathed deeply, nuzzling him and kissing him back. "Heero, the bed." When the dress loosened around her torso, he let her kiss him away until he relented and drew her from the wall.

She had pulled his shirt off before he could lay her down on the bed, her hands running up his chest and over his shoulders. With a little shifting, he managed to remove the dress from her body and his pants as well. They wasted no time on the rest of their clothes.

His hands interlocked with her hands, their fingers interlacing as he pulled his body over hers on the bed, smothering her with himself. Her head sunk into the pillow, her eyes locked on his face, her chest heaving. He kissed her deeply, releasing her hands so he could hold her head and stroke her neck. She breathed silently into his kisses, yielding to his amorous advances, caressing his back and shoulders. He liked the feel of her hands on his skin, but his need was for another kind of touching.

Her eyes were so soft they seemed teary and if anything it was those eyes that stuck with him the longest in remembering that night. Their lovemaking was neither fast nor slow, but thorough and to the point. He lavished her body with tender touches and deep, frantic kisses, drawing her soul out of her body with all his instruments. They loved with a hot and poetic rhythm that came naturally and intensely, drawing more out of each other than they thought they had. The soft, very human sounds she made that night echoed in his ears as he returned them, reveling in the movements and the closeness of their bodies. 

She cried for him in the last as he kissed her neck, releasing all that he held of himself for her in her, feeling as if the fire in his heart had finally settled to a manageable shimmer. He collapsed on her chest and trembled when it was done, but she bore his weight with contentment, running her fingers through her hair and over his neck. After a moment he lifted his body and kissed her soundly. When he rolled off of her she entwined her fingers in his hand again, tears in her eyes as she tried to speak to him without words. He stared into her face, both content and anxious.

__

I will survive, Relena.

His wife. He kissed her again and drew her close to him, wrapping his arms around her back. She felt asleep with her face and hands pressed against his neck and chest like she had tears to shed. She was silent, but he was conscious of the cool metal band of her wedding ring over his heart.

Please Review


	18. Away

Temper the Soul

Chapter 18

By Zapenstap

Relena brushed his hair from his forehead while he slept, smoothing the unruly locks away from his face as sunlight filtered in through the windows and splayed across their bed. She lay on her stomach beside him, her legs sticking out from under the sheets, supporting herself on her elbows. Heero lay on his back, close but not touching her, one hand relaxed over his chest, breathing quietly. She wasn't sure he was really asleep as she smiled at him and smoothed the skin on his forehead with her thumb. He certainly had to be worn out after what followed when he woke her with persistent, ardent kisses on her neck in the middle of the night. He was Heero Yuy, but she had always been conscious of his weaknesses, of his humanity; it's what she first loved about him.

He opened his eyes, deep blue, almond-shaped eyes, and stirred under the sheets. Ever the stoic soldier, nothing in his expression changed as he laid eyes upon her, but she could sense his thoughts. Smiling, she kissed him softly. His hand wrapped around the side of her head as he kissed back and when he smiled heaved herself up to snuggle against him, burying her head in the crook between his shoulder and neck. He held her gently, rubbing her back and kissing the side of her face.

"Good morning," he said.

"Good morning."

He kissed her again and sat up, pulling her into his lap, the sheets tangled about her legs the only thing dividing their bodies in all the necessary places. Pushing the hair out of her eyes, he smiled at her and kissed her on the mouth. She rocked from the force of it, smiling into the kiss. "I won't be gone long," he told her as he pulled away.

She sighed, sobering up. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she hugged him so tightly her arm dangled most of the way down his back. Leaning against him, she listened to his heart beat in his chest, a soft and steady pump. "I don't want you to be gone from me, but I understand you have to go and I know you can fight."

"Relena…"

She lifted her head to look him in the face. "Did you ever think it would be this way?" She remembered when she first met him, of everything that had happened since then, how strange it all was. To think that the young, dedicated soldier she had met on the beach was now in a bed with her, his body and soul a part of her. His eyes were still the same, frightening when they were focused, but the way he held her, looked at her… She kissed him. "Do you know how much I love you? You mean so much to me. You always have. I…"

He put a finger over her lips, shushing her. "I'll be fine. Nothing will happen to me."

She pressed her teeth down on his finger lightly. "It had better not," she said with a smile.

He rubbed his cheeks over her shoulders and shifted her in his lap. Laughing, she kissed his neck and rubbed the back of his head affectionately as he fell back against the headboard with her on top of him and nothing but a sheet between. 

"Heero…"

"I wish there was more time," he half-laughed, and shook his head. "I'm so happy I…"

Her heart thudded in her ears and she fell over his chest, kissing him again, trapping him against the bed. Her mouth found his and they kissed, their tongues meeting almost from the first. He began breathing a little heavily, but seemed too sated and happy to become aroused again so soon. 

"It's yesterday," she breathed. "Don't go. There's lots of time."

Grinning, he tickled her and she laughed, rolling off of him and falling on the bed beside him. He smiled and rolled over on his side, facing her. "I don't want to go," he said with a more serious expression, wrapping one arm around her stomach, "but I have to."

"I know."

He kissed her forehead and then her mouth. "I love you."

"Heero…"

"You make me happy."

"I love you too." She stared into his eyes, amazed at how large they seemed at that moment. "God only knows how much."

He kissed her again and got out of bed.

*****

Audrey waited with Terese at the bottom of the stairs, arrayed in a formal white and gold dress, a form-fitting gown modestly and elegantly cut. She wasn't the only one dressed up. Neither was she the most decadent. The entire Court had turned out for Prince Damion's departure, lines of noble lords and ladies standing in rows at the bottom of the stairs. Scattered among them were members of the press, city officials, members of the palace staff and invited guests. Camera lights from the reporters flashed constantly. News of Prince Damion's departure had been openly released this morning. It was said people had flocked to the airport already, waiting to see him off. Public opinion was positive. They wanted Prince Damion to bring the soldiers home.

Audrey took note or who was present in the palace and who had come with who absently, storing away the information to be analyzed later, but her eyes and her mind were focused mostly on Damion himself.

He stood at the top of the stairs with the head Lords of the Council, dressed all in sharp black from head to toe, his coat cross buttoned across his chest and lightly embroidered with silver thread. His eyes blazed. He wore his circlet on his head, the silver one, and both the nation's emblem and his personal seal were embroidered on the lapels of his coat. Alice Millimant, Lady of Wentenshore and Lord Garret Iselin of Northfield conversed with him quietly, standing to either side of him with their personal servants a few steps behind on the side of the stairs. Manny was with the other servants, watching Damion a little, but mostly making faces at Terese.

Audrey watched Damion. Her whole body felt so strange, weak and strong in intervals. Her pulse was quick, her breathing irregular; sometimes she even felt something similar to nausea. He had an ability to pull a princely countenance out of nowhere when it was called for, though she knew he behaved casual and personal with her and the closest members of his staff. She loved him for it. It was crazy, absolutely crazy, but she had not slept well last night for this sudden love of him. She had dreamed of him awake and asleep.

It had come so quickly. Hearing him tell her he loved her, saying it back… When she woke up this morning she knew the world had changed. He looked very much like a Prince to her eyes today, possessed of his faculties, handsome, confident and generous in his smiles. His smiles made her heart leap. She couldn't rid her mind of him. He was all over her. He seemed to be everywhere at once. More than anything she wanted to be alone with him right now, why she couldn't really say, but she wanted to be alone with him.

It was not to be. He could not take time now to see her privately. The kissing and talking they had done last night would have to be enough. It was sweet torture that she languished as she thought she never would and yet couldn't tell him she did. She would have to write it in a letter. She couldn't remember how long he had kissed her last night, or even how it had begun once she had emptied her heart to him, but she had gone to bed shaking from it. God, she didn't know he could plunge his tongue so deeply into her mouth for so long, much less that she would like it. Even now her breathing hadn't quite returned to normal when she thought of him. It wasn't that she had even really thought much about it at the time; she had just accepted it, lost herself in his attention. He had put his hands on her waist and didn't move them an inch the whole while he kissed her. God, what kisses they were.

"Are you all right?" Terese asked her, putting a hand on her arm and smiling at her with one of those sweet, girlish smiles of hers, dark eyes twinkling. "I've never seen you look at him like that."

Audrey eased the crease her brow and relaxed her features, but she couldn't erase the small, closed-lipped smile from her face. She was so frightened of this, of this gross sway of emotion, of this shakiness in her heart. She was afraid it would end badly, that it would break her as it did her family, but she couldn't mend the floodgate now. He was like an addictive drug she had taken without understanding the consequences. She hoped it would last, even though she was afraid of it.

Damion descended the stairs with a smile and looked straight ahead as the lines of people waiting for him pulled back, everyone bowing and curtseying politely, though he wasn't king yet. Audrey was nearest the stairs and curtseyed as she was able in her dress. He turned his head to look at her as he passed, which he shouldn't, though he kept walking. She felt his eyes graze across her and shivered, lifting her head to meet his face for an instant. His expression made her heart pump at twice its usual rate. Motion seemed to slow as she rose from her curtsey with the others, her eyes glued to his, absorbed by their depth and liquid texture. The emotion in them reminded her of tears without being anything like tears at all. Whatever it was stunned her. All she could hear was the sound of her own heart beating, and maybe his too. But before anything could be done, if indeed, there was anything to do, he had passed beyond her place and out the main doors, his expression reverting back to normal the second he looked away. At the door he was immediately surrounded by an entourage of soldiers and servants, men hand-picked by Damion himself, charged to escort him to the airport, guard him in the West and return him safely home. 

Manny had followed along behind. He stopped a moment and lifted Terese off the ground in a huge hug. She yelped and laughed, hugging him back. "Bye," he said, grinning and kissing her cheek as he set her down. "And don't worry," he whispered with a wink, "he'll be back in time for the wedding!"

"He'd better be!" Terese scolded him, and then kissed him discreetly. She bit her lip as he released her, turned, ran and shouldered his way between the guards to the center of the entourage.

In a brief moment they were all gone. 

As soon as the palace doors closed behind Damion, Audrey was surrounded by a swarm of reporters. Camera light flashed in her face and voices buzzed up in her ears.

"First Choice! Your reaction to this development…"

"Miss Veron, do you have any worries over…?"

She stared after him in silence for a moment, unconsciously ignoring the posed questions, listening to pounding of her heart and the rush in her ears, but slowly she blinked out of her trance and turned to charm the media on her future husband's behalf.

*****

Heero arrived at Preventor Headquarters at nine o'clock sharp. He strolled in wearing jeans, a new green tank top and the preventor's jacket he was given as a courtesy after the fall of Mariemaia all those years ago. But his mind was elsewhere. 

"Heero," Lady Une said, leaning over the desk and stack of reports. "Glad you're here and looking your usual self," she said with a smile. He took that to mean he wasn't smiling, blank faced and confident as they were all used to seeing him. He was glad because in fact his mind was somewhere else entirely. "How is Zechs?" she asked. "I heard you were in Taravren with Relena when he crashed there."

"Yeah. He'll survive, but he's not coming."

Lady Une nodded, leafing through the papers. "Do you want to know what happened or have you already discovered it on your own?"

She was smiling at him again, but no, he hadn't even thought about hacking into the Preventor's database to research the reasons for Zech's fall. Everything since then was Relena. "Why don't you just tell me anyway?"

Lady Une smiled at him and sat on the edge of the desk, crossing her legs. "Gardiner, or whoever is running his defense, was told to shoot down any military aircraft that crossed over the Amarat perimeter."

Amarat. That was the imaginary line between the territory under Gardiner's control and the territory being held by peacekeeping forces, named after the rocky plains that stretched over the area.

"So they just shot down him down?"

"They knew who he was," Lady Une said. "They shot him near Taravren borders and retreated. Preventor Wind had to crash-land the plane. Being an expert pilot he was able to do it without harming himself or any civilians, but he was still incredibly lucky."

"What do you want me to do?"

Her expression became more serious. "What do you want to do, Heero? We need help everywhere. Wufei and Sally are holding the cities on the east side of the Amarat. Duo is lost on the west side. Trowa, Quatre and have volunteered to be among the instrumental scouting troops that are going to break through the perimeter and gather up the soldiers trapped out there if they can."

"How will they organize them?"

"The leaders will be making a statement. Those who will be doing this will be the ones to relay it, audio and visual. But it's a risky thing. We could lose all of you. I'm not going to ask you to do that."

All he wanted was to go home, but this was important, too important to be trusted to just anybody. The other gundam pilots he trusted, but… "I'll go," he said, crossing his arms. "Where are Trowa and Quatre?"

"They're boarding the plane now."

So this was it. Heero drew his gun from waistband and turned it over in his hands. He stared at it for a moment, feeling how black and heavy it was. It had been a long time since he had used it.

"I know," Lady Une said quietly, intruding in on his thoughts with a soft voice. "I know you thought it was over."

He put the gun away, tucking it behind his back and under his coat. "Let's just do what needs to be done."

In ten minutes he found himself on a military jet full of soldiers, some talking and joking and others blank faced. Quatre and Trowa were sitting together in the corner, separate from most everyone else. Trowa sat with his back to him, arms crossed over his chest. Quatre had his hands on his knees, turning his head to look out the window. He looked up when Heero approached.

"Heero," the blonde pilot said with a welcoming smile. 

"Hey," Trowa said softly, not turning. "Have a seat."

Heero sat down and said nothing. 

"How have things been with you?" Quatre asked with a smile. "How is Relena?"

Heero replied absently, not really seeing him. "We're both fine." 

Quatre blinked. Trowa raised an eyebrow, though he didn't move. "Oh yeah?"

Heero stared out the window as the plane took off, staring back at Cinq, at the house that became visible as they rose higher, the house they were flying away from. 

Leaving him alone, Trowa and Quatre engaged in conversation about their job and he listened with an attentive ear even as he thought about his wife waiting for him at home alone. He rested his hand on his knee and stared at the ring on his finger, remembering standing at the altar yesterday and feeling suddenly weak in the head. 

*****

It was near evening when Audrey had enough of the commotion and retired to her rooms, conscious of how strange and lonely the palace seemed. Sighing, she sat down at a small marble table and rested her head on her arms. Her head and heart still buzzed with him. She felt drained in every respect. 

After a minute there came a knock at the door. Terese popped her head in. "Audrey?"

"Terese," she breathed, sitting up. "Come in, please."

The bright-eyed and raven-haired palace manager joined her, sitting in the chair across from the table. "We just got word from the Prince Damion. He arrived in his guard tower safely."

God, he was there already. She tried to calm herself down, tried not to think of the implications, of his body being so far away, and in such a dangerous place. "Any other word from him?"

"Oh, I didn't talk to him personally. They've shut down instant communication through open channels. They have to encrypt everything they send out, for safety's sake."

She could already tell this waiting was going to give her nightmares. And if Damion was in a tower surrounded by guards, how was it with the people on the frontline, the people he was trying to bring home? What about the soldiers called in to retrieve them? "I worry about Relena," she told Terese. "Perhaps we could invite her back to stay here? Her brother is here too. He might as well stay. I can't imagine she can bare to wait this out alone."

"I'll call her," Terese said with a smile. "Perhaps Lucrezia Noin as well? Milliardo's wife?"

"Of course." Something occurred to her and she froze, turning around quickly. "Do I have the authority to request such a thing?"

Terese laughed and shrugged. "Well, you're not Queen of Taravren yet, but since Damion left the management of this place more or less in my control, I think it's pretty much all right to request whatever you want." She bit her lip suddenly. "I saw your face when he was leaving. Are you…?" she trailed off.

Audrey closed her eyes. "I think so," she said, and couldn't suppress a smile. She let her head fall into her hands helplessly.

Terese smile split her face. "God, I was _wondering_. People have been watching, the staff I mean. Everyone whispers about the two of you, hoping and waiting and wishing. They ask Manny and I all sorts of questions. We don't really tell them much and I won't say a word if you don't want your personal life publicized, but I had hoped..." 

Audrey smiled at her. "Thank you, and everyone, for being patient with me."

"Yeah," Terese said. "I don't know. I figured it must be hard. You seem so sad most of the time, I thought maybe there was something, that there had to be something… I mean, you seem happiest when I see you with him, and yet…." She trailed off. 

Audrey lowered her head, playing with her engagement ring. "Right now I almost wish the timing had been different. Two months of feeling this way when I can't see him…"

"Just a little test," Terese said quietly. "Sixty days or so. Nothing at all really."

Audrey nodded. "Sixty days."

Sixty days to keep loving him in his absence, a meager test of fortitude. And then the wedding, and the wedding night. She shivered and tried not to wonder about it too much. He was beautiful and she loved him, but there was still that apprehension there, that fear of his possession, of letting him _have_ her fully, of the act itself, of old habits and fears. This feeling was such a new and fragile thing. Would it be easier to love him in his absence or would her love for him become distorted? 

"This is hard," she breathed. 

*****

Their landing was announced over the intercom. Taking a deep breath, Heero crossed his arms, trying to be more patient than he felt. He had been silent for the entire trip, strategizing the quickest, most efficient way of completing this mission with the least possible risk. He had never considered the latter before. He had changed a lot in some ways. 

The plane landed in a hot a dusty desert territory. Still without conversation, Heero exited the plane with the others. He surveyed the territory shrewdly, noting the rocky outcropping and the long spans of flat, dusty plains and scraggly shrubs. A hot wind blew across the plain, ruffling his coat. He began to sweat in the heat as he considered the situation. There wasn't much natural water out here. Duo might be suffering if he was alone. 

Almost in silence the soldiers from the plane were escorted to military off road jeeps and driven to the city without incident. On the way they were briefed and armed. Heero held onto his own gun, but he accepted a second silently, having tucked the first behind his back in the waistband of his pants, hiding it under his coat. The second he hid inside his boot. 

Arriving at the city, they all climbed out of the van and waited in the streets in front of the international embassy. Guards lined the perimeters of the city with rifles in hand. Barbed wire covered the walls. The citizens were under marshal law for their own safety, confined to their homes. The part of the city that had once existed outside the old walls had been evacuated and pulled inside. A great deal of it had been burned to the ground by Gardiner's mob-like army.

Heero waited beside Trowa and Quatre until Wufei and Sally appeared and issued a slew of commands for the new recruits. Those soldiers dispersed to their barracks. Heero and the other gundam pilots ignored the orders to move out and waited until they were alone with Sally and Wufei.

"Let's go inside," Sally said at last. "We'll catch you up."

They followed Wufei and Sally into the building and up to a secured conference room. Wufei watched Heero with a slanted gaze, as if wondering what he was thinking about.

"When is this happening?" Trowa asked when they all sat down at the table. "I'm worried about Duo."

"Soon hopefully," Wufei growled. "We're going over the perimeter ahead of the main force to gather everyone, but everyone has to be briefed and some people need to be trained. There's a large group of our people trapped in the hills just south of Camadrie and scattered in the surrounding area. We hope Duo's with a group of them. From his reports, we pinpointed his location near there, but we can only hope."

"Is it possible he's in the city?"

"Yeah," Sally said. "But it's not much of a city. Gardiner's people have already occupied it and they haven't treated resistors well. If Duo's in there, he's in more danger than if he joined up with our soldiers in the hills, though they're both under fire."

"What's our success rate?" Quatre asked.

"I don't want to hear the numbers," Trowa said softly.

"With you guys?" Sally said, "High enough. But it's too bad the gundams are useless. It might have been easier, or at least less risky."

"For us maybe," Wufei said. "But there's not a lot of honor in that."

"No," Trowa said. "They're not in good shape anymore anyway and it's next to impossible to fight ground troops with something that large. People get desperate when backed into a corner. I'm afraid these people would just starting setting fires and exploding buildings with hostages if we came at them that way."

"So was Lady Une," Sally said softly.

"Let's just do this and go home," Heero muttered under his breath.

They all stared at him.

"What did you say, Heero?" Quatre asked him.

"I said let's do this and go home," he repeated. 

"Heero…" Trowa said worriedly,

Wufei scowled. "You've been looking inattentive since you arrived. If you don't want to be here…"

"That's not what I mean. You and this mission have my full attention," he told them, and met them all in the eye with such force that they sat back. "I will perform better than I ever have. I'm just saying let's not drag this out. I need to be home."

Quatre and Trowa just stared at him, obviously confounded.

"Why? Because you don't want to die?" Sally said. "Forgive me, Heero, but I have trouble believing you're afraid of death now."

"I'm not."

"We may all of us be killed," Trowa said practically. He paused, seeming confused. "You're the last person I would expect to have to explain that to."

"You don't understand," he said

Quatre blinked. "Understand what, Heero?"

Heero leveled his gaze on Quatre. "I just want this to end. I want to go home and tend to my family."

Wufei's scowl deepened and he crossed his arms. The look he shot Heero could have scraped the skin off his face. "You don't have any family last time I checked."

"Wufei," Sally said, putting a hand on his arm to calm him.

"You've turned into jelly since you've gotten so involved with that girl," Wufei said, wrenching his arm away. "It's disgraceful."

Heero didn't say anything to that. He didn't always believe Wufei's anger toward women. It seemed forced sometimes. "I can still kill people," he said darkly. 

Quatre gave Heero a strange, considering look, as if to say _"but you don't want to, do you? Neither do any of us."_

Heero uncrossed his arms, laid his hands on the table and tried to look more relaxed and less self-conscious.

Trowa just shook his head. "I don't doubt your abilities, Heero. I never could, but what…" 

Quatre was staring at Heero's hands on the table with something like amazement. Sally's eyes were glued to his ring, as wide as saucers.

"Oh my God," Sally said.

Quatre choked. "Heero, did you get married?"

There was a moment of awkward silence.

"Yes."

Wufei's mouth dropped open. 

"Heero…" Sally breathed. "And Relena?"

Abruptly, Trowa started laughing, clutching his stomach and keeling over in his chair. No one even looked at him.

"And you left us out of it?" Quatre demanded, his eyes wide with offense.

Heero turned one of his hands over, unable to comment. "I…"

Sally smacked a hand to her forehead. "Heero…" She chuckled. "You'd better plan a second ceremony! I can't believe I missed it. How could you leave us out?"

"No one was there," he said uncomfortably. "Except Zechs and Damion and some of his staff."

"_What_?" Wufei demanded. 

"When did you get married?" Quatre said, blinking. He sat perfectly still.

"Last night."

Quatre looked like he swallowed his tongue.

"How was the wedding night?" Sally teased him.

Heero's tongue clove to the roof of his mouth, but he could help a smile.

Wufei's eyes blazed and he stood up, practically shaking. "You're going to be totally useless!" He shouted furiously, smacking the table with the flat of his hand.

Trowa laughed harder.

*****

Damion sat on the edge of a cabinet, one leg dangling off, boot hanging just above the tabletop. A clipboard lay forgotten in his lap as he adjusted the head set, listening with half an ear to the other leaders as they talked to each other.

The leaders were individually stationed in different places so it was difficult for everyone to meet together, but he still had attended three meetings since his arrival and only one by this type of communication. This was the first quiet moment he had gotten in awhile, perched as he was on the filing cabinet in the observatory, looking out over the empty plains where this little abandoned transmissions tower sat desolate. But there was an excellent communications set-up here and he could hear through his headset what the other leaders were saying at a meeting some forty miles distant, though their conversation had technically ended a good fifteen minutes ago.

The door opened and Manny came in with a brown folder full of papers and envelopes. Damion's bodyguards let him through. Damion was never let completely alone anywhere in the tower and he was not allowed outside it. He always had at least two guards on his person and usually more people within shouting distance. There was an entire garrison in the building, as well as members of his staff and some international conveys that traveled at great risk between towers and cities were the leaders had gathered. Security was intense.

"Hey," Damion said to Manny with a relieved smile. He set down the clipboard and pulled the headset down around his neck. "What do you have for me?"

"What are you doing up there, Master Damion?" Manny asked, reaching to hand him the folder.

Damion pointed to the window. It overlooked the plains. "I can see better," he said. 

"What are you expecting to see?"

"I don't know. I just feel like I should be watching."

Everybody felt that way.

Inside the folder was another list of Taravren citizens expected to be either dead or trapped in Gardiner's widening territory. He read down the list with a dreadful feeling. He had been handed many of these and they made his chest feel tight. Even when still at home they had come to him. He had inadvertently memorized some of the names.

"Any word as to the military part of this operation from Oswold?" he asked. He should talk to the captain of his guards himself, but he didn't want to hunt him down or force Manny to do it.

Manny shrugged. "It's being kept secret last I heard. All I know is that they're going to penetrate the border within a few weeks, gather up who they can and open transmissions for you and the other leaders to hopefully inspire everyone to cooperate long enough to pull everyone out before the main confrontation."

Damion nodded, trying not to consider the details, all the things that could go wrong. He knew that it was likely Heero would be part of the scouting group that would penetrate the Aramat perimeter and relay the message. It was impossible to believe that everyone would get through alive. He didn't want to be one of the first people to see his name on one of these lists. 

If Heero made it through the border and managed to relay the leaders' broadcast to the survivors in the hills, he would also have to survive long enough for the main forces to break across and snap up Gardiner's men. That would be the real fighting, heavy, ground fighting when the peacekeeping forces would be forced to crack down on Gardiner's mob.

And then there was Gardiner himself. Damion hadn't seen his picture until he arrived here as his visual had not been released to the media in fear of scaring him away. But the snipers knew what they were looking for now, a tall, clean-cut young man with reddish hair and brown eyes. Gardnier would likely be near Camradie. Intel said that city was his most recent project, that word was he hoped to occupy it before the end of the month.

Leaping down from the cabinet, Damion arrayed the folder on the table. Manny pulled up a chair and sat down, watching him leaf through the reports.

At the bottom of the stack was a letter.

From Audrey.

Manny was grinning now.

"Why didn't you tell me right away?" he breathed, snatching it from the pile and practically ripping it open.

Manny laughed at him.

*****

Julia lit a long slender white candle with a match and used it to light a second candle on the windowsill in the library. She blew out the match with a little puff of air, watching the tendrils of smoke rise in front of her face. 

Audrey Veron sat at a small table in the library, writing another letter, though she had sent one off already this morning. She wrote with even, fluid strokes, the candlelight casting a rough golden light on the pale skin of her arm and cheek.

Relena Peacecraft was there too, sitting across from Audrey with a pen in her hand as well, smiling as she wrote, holding her long hair out of her face with her hand, her head leaning against her arm. Julia wondered if a letter would get through to that young husband of hers at this point, but she did not say so.

Smiling to herself, Julia lifted the two candlesticks and brought them to the table.

"I do not know how you can see to write," she murmured, placing them in the middle of the table. The flame of the little candle that had sufficed before was drowned in the light she brought. 

"I like to write by candlelight," Audrey said, but her eyes were fixed on the page.

Relena didn't seem to be paying much attention to the conversation either.

Julia regarded the two of them without comment, watching their facial expressions as they read over their words carefully. Relena smiled as she wrote, though something about the tilt of her eyebrows conveyed an anxiousness in her heart. Audrey's expression was perfectly flat and cool, but she wrote with an avid concentration. As the days passed by she had grown more melancholy, retreating into a world of contemplative thought and consideration, but be that as it may, she was in love.

It was difficult for Julia to believe that her little Damion would soon be married to this woman, that the little prince she had grown up with would soon be king and husband both, and perhaps father too in due time. 

She removed herself from the scene, letting the girls write their hearts on paper and walked back to the window. She remembered Damion as a sweet and proud eleven-year-old princeling and Manny as a rakish boy just beginning to understand his job as a servant and less as a partner in mischief. They had been a rowdy team, but sweet to her, though she had been too prim for their boyish games at that age.

But he would always have her loyalty. She would never forget the day Damion comforted her when he found her balling in a corner when she was thirteen, not knowing why she cried until months later. She glanced at Audrey now and smiled sadly. If she had known Audrey in another circumstance, if it had been anyone other than Damion, she would have told the girl to bury her heart and drown her feelings. It was difficult to say who's happiness she wanted more, Damion for who he was and had always been in her life, or Audrey, who reflected her experiences and likewise the condition of her heart. She herself had been softer once, wishing and hoping for love like other girls, and like Audrey had been deceived and destroyed by her naivete. There had been a short time in her life when she had loved Damion secretly, or thought she did, because he had comforted her and befriended her when so much changed. That had been years and years ago, when Clara Veron was rabid in her possession of the young and oblivious Prince of Taravren, when his interest in girls had been casual and curious if anything at all. She smiled to remember how she had shared her silly secret with the ever-receptive Manny and begged him not to tell. It was perhaps the only secret Manny had ever consciously kept from Damion. But of course, she outgrew it quickly and learned to walk a very different path. She had no regrets of her conscious choices, but she wished with the bits of her that still believed in love for other people that they would be happy. She wished it on Damion for his goodness, on Audrey for her sadness. She only hoped the two could find a common ground in which to share it.

And let me profusely thank everyone again (on my knees!) for all the reviews I received last chapter. There were SO many. I was SO happy. Ecstatic! Motivated! It was _beautiful_ and I owe it all to you so please please please keep it up.

Wow, nothing _really_ happens in this chapter since it's so in between everything. Please review anyway? You really should! You have _seven_ (seven!) scenes to pick from after all, and I'm getting close to that craziness I've been promising for a long time, so the motivation would be useful! 

Someone suggested a character poll a few chapters ago. That could be fun and useful to me, so hey, who's your favorite character? (Now, I know you all have special feelings for Heero and Relena, but not necessarily in this story). ^_^ Well, if you want to share I'd get a kick out of it, but no obligation! I happily take reviews of any kind, anything readers are generous enough to offer. THANK you for reading and reviewing. It means a lot to me, it really does. 


	19. Battle on the Plains

  
Temper the Soul 

Chapter 19 

by zapenstap 

  
  
  


Terese waved the pamphlet of papers at Audrey and gestured to the altar. "Everything will be _drowning_ in candles," she said, turning in a slow circle to take in the rows upon rows of pews, the valuted ceiling, the massive spiraling columns, the stain-glass windows... "We'll have the columns fitted with holders, there'll be candle rivers along the rows, set on those shelves, covering the altar, _everywhere_. There will be electric lighting too, above the altar for the most part. Everyone will be able to see you." 

Audrey nodded, crossing her arms as she swept the expanse of the room with her eyes. This sanctuary was radically different than the one she had watched Relena and Heero get married in. It was enormous for one thing. Empty except for herself, Terese and Relena, every sound they made echoed as if they stood in a cavern. The distance between the pews and the altar was a mammoth space alone. She and Damion would look like shruken figures before an audience way out here. She tried to imagine the church filled with people and was suddenly glad of the space between the altar and the seating. The building itself would easily house several thousand people. No matter how they arranged it, this would never feel small or personal. She supposed it was just as well. If one was to marry a prince, it might as well be done with all the pomp and grandeur such an affair deserved. Besides, both of them would also be crowned during the ceremony, and that ceremony needed to imspire a sort of reverence if it was to happen at all. 

It didn't matter to her. She would have the rest of her life to be personal with Damion. The thought inflamed her heart, though she let nothing show on her face. She could endure these formalities. She might even enjoy them. Shivering, she hugged her arms to her body a little tighter. This was becoming unbearable. She wanted him back home where she could keep an eye on him. 

Relena stood by the altar behind Terese, fingering the wood absent-mindedly. She had seemed half-distracted for several days now, ever since her last letter to her husband returned to her unopened. When the letter arrived, Relena flew into an enraged panic and called Lady Une to demand why her letter had been returned to her. Sally Po had contacted them later to tell them that Heero and the other gundam boys were in the field and had not been sent her letter. They were carrying valuable equipment, messages from the leaders of the nations to the people scattered in Gardiner's territory and could not be reached from outside. Meanwhile, headquarters was preparing for a frontal assault, an aggressive movement to hopefully crush Gardiner's opposition and trap him in his own territory, but Sally wasn't forthcoming about the details. All they knew was that Heero was in the field now with the others gundam pilots, unreachable, but if all went well he would soon be home. 

Relena didn't say much about it. She didn't even seem that frightened or sad. She was just very quiet and kept to herself a great deal more than Audrey had known her to when she knew Heero was safe and sound. It was the strangest thing Audrey had ever seen. In these times, the Cinq Kingdom Princess had expressions that seemed to match her beloved soldier's down to the very crease of her eyebrows. As the days stretched out with no word from her husband, she grew more regal and more determined by the hour. Had she not known her to be kind and charitable, Audrey might have thought she was hiding a reckless desperation, even a dangerous one. It wasn't that she did anything particularly life threatening, but the way she did every little task with an almost mindless efficiency made Audrey think of a courageous martyr. Going on Terese's authority, that was very like Heero. In an intense situation they were remarkably similar. But Relena hadn't done anything foolish yet; she merely looked as if she wanted to. 

Audrey wondered if she resembled Damion in any way like that. Beneath her melancholoy and his optimism, were they at all alike? She wondered, but she did not ask. The way both of them behaved to the outside world blurred the finer points of their personalities. How much of her love for him was brought on by his will and her consent? Did it make a difference when it was strong enugh to make her feel ill? Her heart ached thinking about him. She didn't want to worry like this. She merely hoped everyone was safe, and from Relena's flat and reflective expression, she felt a sudden and strong kinship with the girl just knowing she felt the same. 

"Audrey? Relena?" Terese said impatiently. "I'm breaking my back over this wedding and I need you to focus." 

Audrey nodded absently and shoved her concerns from her mind. She needed a distraction. 

***** 

"Well, Damion," Manny whispered to him quietly, trying not to be heard by all the other people in the room, some attending him and others attending his foreign guests. "That's it, isn't it?" 

Damion nodded. The other leaders were beginning to withdraw. If all went well, in only a few days time, so would they. The lost soldiers had been addressed. The leader's speeches had been recorded and given to the finest scouts the peacekeeping forces had to offer. Damion knew that somewhere out in the field, Heero was walking around with copies of his tapes, giving them to his people...or so he prayed. 

"Now we wait," he said with as much patience as he could muster. 

Manny sighed and tried to cover it up by looking overly stern in front of the others. "I hope it goes well." 

"Me too," Damion agreed. "If it doesn't, we'll just have to keep trying. But Heero and the others are out there. If anyone can get our message through, it's them." He smiled, excited in spite of his fears. "And then home, Manny. We can put all of this aside. It's kind of nice to get out of Taravren, but I'd rather go to the tropics than a battlezone." 

Manny grinned. "How many letters have you got from Audrey now?" 

"Seven," he replied. "And another tomorrow morning if God likes me. The things she says..." 

"You don't have to tell me," Manny grinned. "I get my own letters." 

Damion closed his eyes and smiled. Her letters began with descriptions of her day mostly, and he loved that, but her confessions of the heart were like an elixer. He had reread them all so many times, the creases were close to tearing. Some of the passages he had memorized, especially the end of that first letter. 

_You're so far away, I don't want you to have any doubts. I told you I loved you. I meant it. I know I have guarded my heart carefully, but please believe I have never cared for anyone as I do for you. I am afraid to say that at one time I thought you too good and too kind to do me any service. You must know it seems to me that you have everything. You get anything you want. I thought you might be too innocent and too optimistic to understand me, and I hope that doesn't offend you now. I thought I could not understand you, but I do. You are a Prince. Your world revolves around you. It has to. If in that you can prove to be as caring as you are, why should I mind revolving too? I see you for who you are, outside and within your obligations and though it terrifies me, I know you see me in and out of mine. I'm sorry for any pain I've caused you. I never meant to hurt you. Whatever my reserves in the past, know that I love you and I want you to come home. I will admit that I am nervous and anxious and even apprehensive, but when I once thought love could not be great enough to overcome my fears, I now think my fears can't be great enough to overcome my love. Would you think me vain if I write again that I love you? I've told you that I would love you as I could, but that I was not sure I could love you amorously. But I was wrong. The words do not sound right on paper and I do not know if I have the strength to speak them, but there are many reasons I want you to come home, fulfilling your promise to me not least among them. God help me if I don't want to have children by you.___

_And even if God thinks I'm a fool, I still find myself missing you._

Love,   
Audrey   


It was almost physically painful to have to wait like this. 

_Hurry, Heero. Everyone is counting on you._   


***** 

  


The heat of the sun blistered on the back of his neck as Heero knelt on the ground behind an outcropping of sandy rocks, adjusting the staps of the bullet-proof vest strapped over his tank top and checking the rounds left in his gun. His chest still heaving from his last dash, he soaked oxygen in through his nose and tried to clear his vision by focusing on the details of his boots and the little pebbles they had scattered. With his entire body coated in a sheet of grayish dirt, he looked like he had been wading through a dustbin. His skin was so dry he would have given almost anything for a long hot bath, anything except for a sight of his wife. But, of course, water had to be perserved and every drop he had was reserved for drinking. 

The brown cloak that hung over his shoulders was like wearing a sauna, though in actuality it protected him from the heat of the sun. Still, it was a cumbersome garment, however it cloaked him in this terrain. Twisting, he brought the radio-comm on his wrist to his mouth and communicated to Trowa that he had passed through the outer perimeter and was within sight of the walls of the city. 

"Is it quiet?" Trowa whispered. 

"It is here," he murmured into his wrist. "For the moment. I've seen some rovers." 

They had penetrated the border under a heavy rain of gunfire from small bands of Gardiner's patrols and troublemakers, what he referred to as "rovers." They were untrained men for the most part and he, Quatre, Wufei and Trowa had managed to slip past them without having to kill anyone. Three miles into the Amarat they were found by a group of their own, who recognized Wufei from a distance and put up their arms. Those men didn't want to know about the planned invasion at first. They wanted to know if they brought water or ammunition, life or death. Heero and the other pilots spared what water they could. Once assured of their allegiance, those men were supplied with copies of the tapes with the plan dictated by the leaders of their own nation. After meeting them, Heero knew why it was necessary. They wouldn't have believed otherwise. He even met some guys from Taravren, whose faces literally filled with hope when he handed them a tape made for them by their prince. The soldiers knew where and to who to take those tapes. 

Heero estimated there were around three hundred individuals scouting for stray bands of scattered armies. In possibly as little as a day they would be gathering together, small groups that grew steadily larger as they joined forces on the western side of the Amarat. Trowa was with one of those bands now, using their equipment to make copies of the leaders' address and supply the other pilots with the intel necessary to get them in Camadrie. They hoped to find Duo there, gather the hidden forces in the city and hold their position until it was time. 

Rumor was strong that Abel Gardiner was in Camadrie. When the scattered forces within the Amarat were no longer scattered they would gather on the west side of the city. No doubt Gardiner's forces would come running to attack them as a group. That would be the real battle, a battle they had to keep fighting until Lady Une sent in the reserve forces of the combined nations in from the East. If all went well, Gardiner's people would be crushed between a rock and a hammer. The peacekeeping forces would take back the city, assassinate the leader, arrest the officials, scatter the remaining forces, restore peace and go home. 

He hoped so anyway. 

"Wufei should be on your right," Trowa told him. Heero looked out into the dusty plains, but he couldn't see anything. That didn't mean he didn't believe it. "You should meet up with him when you cross the next juction," Trowa continued. "There's a rock cropping about 300 meters from where you are. Make for that." 

Heero crept to the edge of his present rocky cover, settling his gun in the palm of his hand. "I'm close to the city. Where's Quatre?" 

"He's made it to the city walls." 

Heero felt a flash of annoyance. 

Trowa responded to his silence as if he read his mind, which was a little disconcerting. "He's had a lot of experience in terrain like this, Heero. Besides, you're not taking the risks you used to." 

He couldn't see his wedding ring because of the black gloves on his hands, but he understood. "Fair enough." 

Trowa chuckled. "I still can't believe you got married without us. Why didn't you wait? You wanted to have one last night before battle or something?" 

Heero smiled to himself fondly, remembering, but that was never what occupied him when he thought of her anymore. "No. Nothing like that. I can't really explain it to you, Trowa." 

He thought the other man might be smiling, but it was difficult to tell. After a moment, Trowa spoke again. "Wufei just checked in. Are you ready?" 

Shaking the dust from his hands, he pulled the hood of the cloak over his head, sinking his face into the comfortable darkness of the interior. "Yeah." 

Several agonizing seconds passed in silence. "All right. You're clear." 

Pushing off the ground from the ball of his foot, Heero rose in a half-crouch and sped across the open terrain in a quick and efficient dash. He clutched the gun in his right hand, hiding the weapon beneath the open flaps of his coat. 

Gun fire and shouts caught him halfway across the open fields. Damn! 

"Heero?" Trowa's voice came fuzzily. "Heero!" 

He hadn't the time to respond. He knew there were rovers! Dropping in the dust, he caught sight of his attackers before his knee hit the ground. Five shapes emerged from a fold in the ground he hardly noticed, all of them in a ragged clothing and cloaks much like his own. They bounded over the sand, shouting for him to raise his hands above his head and get on his knees. He debated doing what he was told and escaping later, but at the last moment he saw two of the men withdraw their own firing arms, not seeming to care if he was friend or foe. Heero's left hand mechancially cocked the gun in his right hand, but before he could bring the barrel out from under his cloak, shots fired. 

He fell on his hip, the cloak falling half off his shoulders. Though he couldn't see it, he thought a bullet barely missed him by the hot wind that swept over his ribs. As he fell, he whipped out his own gun and fired two rounds, aiming messily and almost generally in the dust and heat. 

Two of the men went down, one with a bullet through the brain, the other with one through his kneecap. The second screamed, clutching his leg and hobbling. His companions started in confusion, pulling back, separating suddenly. Heero targeted the one on the far left and fired again, this time more carefully. Blood splurted from his chest, near enough to the heart. Without wasting another hot breath, Heero struggled to his knees, raising his weapon again. 

The remaining two men were quicker, guns in their hands and targeted on him before he had lifted his head from the earth. 

He continued to rise knowing he was too slow and too late. Of course he thought of Relena. And Of course he didn't give up. As Heero was still raising his gun, both his assailants toppled, first one and then the other, shot in the back of the head. As they fell forward, Wufei's figure became visible. The Chinese warrior shot the man with the crippled leg and met Heero's eyes across the distance between them. 

Without words, Heero rose and helped him move the bodies behind the rocky outcropping that was supposed to be their cover. He did not relish sharing the space with these dead outlaws, and only hoped they really had been enemies. Without the trust to communicate, they could not be sure, but it was not the first hostile such group they had seen. 

It was still the first time Heero had had to kill in a long long while, though. 

He put his gun away with steady hands. Wufei was watching him with sharp, glittering eyes. "Pull your hood back up, Yuy," he said gruffly, adjusting the knobs on his communicator. As Heero pulled the hood back over his head, ignoring the dust that fell down the back of his shirt, Wufei half-shouted, half-whispered into his wrist. "Barton! I thought you said it was clear." 

"It was on our system. They must have been cloaked. Are you two all right?" 

"We're fine. Just don't let it happen again. I don't want to be the one to tell Relena Heero's not coming home." 

"Wufei..." Heero began. 

"Oh, shut up," Wufei told him. "You picked a lousy time to get married, Yuy. The least you can do is complain when staying alive for that girl is any harder than it has to be." He turned back to his wrist. "Did you hear that, Trowa?" 

"Loud and clear. How far are you from Camadrie now?" 

"I can see the walls...and a lot of people." 

Heero crept past Wufei and rose slightly, peering into the shimmering heat. The walls of Camadrie were old, stone and battered down in a lot of places. Like the last town, the buildings had sprawlled beyond the old walls a long time ago, but what had once probably been downtown Camadrie was a pile of rubble now. Such a city as this wouldn't be called a city in a lot of places, but out on this plain, it was the closest thing to. Though simple, it seemed to be rather large at some point. At least, it spanned across the entire horizon ahead of them and marched up into the hills behind. And there were people milling around the walls. Lots of them. There weren't any ordinary citizens moving in and out of the city, though, not unless they wore cloaks and carried guns. He's had noticed that a lot of Gardiner's men wore white bands of cloth around their forheads with a little insignia embroidered over their eyebrows. He couldn't tell from far away, but he guessed it was a probably a symbol for anarchy or anti-government. Most of the people he saw wore them. 

"How did Quatre get inside?" Heero murmured in a monotone into his wrist. He had a few ideas himself, all of them dangerous, but he would do what needed to be done. "I don't think we can get around the city, Trowa." 

"Just hold tight for a moment," Trowa said. "There weren't that many people there before. Quatre says they've been marching out of the buildings and gathering outside only recently." 

"Are they going somewhere?" Wufei demanded. 

"I don't know. Possibly. They could be making a sweep. They could be traveling somewhere. We'll find out after they leave." 

Even as they watched, the people began gathering in a tight knot, listening to a grizzled, dark-haired man who was waving his arms about. Most of them were cloaked. Heero couldn't really see what was happening, but they all appeared to be carrying weapons. And most wore those headbands. They were beginning to get rowdy. 

"They look like they're being incited," Wufei growled. 

"Yeah," Heero agreed. 

"They're going to fight somewhere," Wufei said, peering at them with narrowed eyes. "Trowa, they might be coming your way, or after the other groups. There's quite a lot of them." 

"We'll remove somewhere else then. Wait until they go and head out as soon as it's clear." 

"Roger that," Heero said. 

They waited as the men gathering the front of the wall, maybe two or three hundred, began to move away, heading southeast. They would pass by Wufei and Heero in the distance, but not close enough to spot them well hidden. 

"There's still got to be lots left in the city," Wufei murmured. "But the guard is small now. I think we can slip past them." 

"Hopefully Quatre will be able to help us out," Heero muttered. "But we don't have Trowa anymore." 

Wufei nodded. "Tell you what, Yuy. I think I can get to the walls without being noticed, but we might need a decoy." 

"You want me to step out in front of gunfire." Not literally, but potentially. 

"Do you see another way to do it?" 

He didn't worry about it. He would do what needed to be done. "No, but let's get closer." 

They both moved closer to the city together. Now that they were past the plain, the landscape was less flat and the small hills helped to conceal their movements. Still, at some points they had to practically crawl in the dust, hiding their faces and bodies in their cloaks and waiting at need. 

Fifty meters from the outer walls they stopped, crouching behind what was barely a fold in the ground a few scraggly shrubbs. They exchanged glances and then Heero stood up, in full few of the guards at the gate. There had to be at least a dozen. 

"Halt!" Guns were hefted, rifles and shot guns in the hands of men wild and weathered. 

He walked forward, but raised his hands over his head. Without looking, he knew Wufei had crept off, slinking around the sidelines toward the walls. "I bring a message for Gardiner," he said loudly enough to be heard. 

"Gardiner doesn't hear messengers," came his reply. "Drop your weapons!" 

Heero removed his heavy gun and dropped it to the earth. He still had another tucked in his boot, but he wasn't about to remove that. 

"Who sends you?" 

Heero racked his brain for the best possible answer. If he could get these guys to escort him inside to see Gardiner.... "Damion Ravineere, Prince Regent of Taravren," he said clearly. He actually did carry messages from Damion, him among the other leaders, but they weren't for these guys. Still, it would serve as a bluff, and he knew enough about Damion to make-up a believable story. 

Amazingly, the guards lowered their weapons. They appeared to be conversing forcefully, gesturing sharply to one another. Heero kept walking forward, taking slow, measured steps, amazed that they let him. But of course, these men were not necessarily soliders. That didn't mean they couldn't fight hard. 

When he was within 20 paces of them and the walls, two of the guards came out to meet him, one with a handgun and the other with a rifle, both raised and aimed for his heart. Heero kept his hands above of his head and looked straight forward, watching the expressions of the guards at the gate for signs of trouble. Like him, they had cloaks with hoods pulled over their heads, so it was difficult to see their faces. 

"Give us your message," one of the guards near him said. "We'll see he gets it." 

"I can't do that," he replied. 

There was sudden movement by the gate. "That's Heero Yuy!" someone shouted. "He's a Preventor! Shoot him!" 

Everything happened at once. 

Reaching out, Heero grabbed the rifle of the man nearest him with both hands and pulled with a snapping force. The man's hands slipped as he let go of the gun, falling backward. Wasting no time, Heero shoved the butt of the weapon into the fellow's chest. He grunted and stumbled backwards. With a well-aimed swing, Heero used the firing arm like a gun, smashing the handle into the side of the guard's head. He crumbled at his feet. 

During the exchange he saw Wufei leap out of nowhere and take down three guards with deft movements of his hands and feet before they even saw him. Abruptly, there was also commotion on the end of the line. A small brown-cloaked figure was moving quickly. Two guards on that end were down. 

Heero ducked and rolled as the other guard who had come to take his message shot at him. He kicked the other man in the knees until he fell forward on his face, cursing, the gun dropping from his hand. Grabbing it out of the air by the handle, he swung it like he had the rifle, knocking the second man out with his own weapon. 

Shots were fired from the gate. He used the gun of his attacker and ran forward, shooting at anyone in a white headband. He knew he was a target too, but it was still a shock when he felt a force like a tiny elephant hit him in the chest. 

He didn't know how he ended up on his back, but he saw the sky and knew that's where he was. Sounds rang in his ears like bells and his head ached. 

Abruptly Quatre's face appeared over him. "Heero? Heero, are you okay?" 

It occurred to Heero that Quatre was the little guy on the other end of the line, blending in with the guards. He had probably gotten to the wall just when men started to gather there, so it would have been easy for him to hide among them. 

Heero blinked as Wufei's face appeared beside Quatre's. Beside the blonde pilot's angelic concern, Wufei's expression could only be described as scornful. "Get up, Yuy." 

He sat up, rubbing his head as his thoughts cleared. He had never worn a bullet proof vest into battle before. He had never actually been shot in the chest before either. It was enough to knock the wind out of him, no matter how tough he thought he was. There was a hole in his cloak, but he paid it no mind, looking around him instead. 

All the guards were down, but not all of them dead. Killing them wouldn't help their cover. They would have to hide in the city and hope they weren't found. But he knew they wouldn't last long that way. No one out here was going to last long, not with that band of rogues roaming around armed to the teeth. 

"Once we deliver the messages, call Lady Une," Heero said as he got to his feet. "Tell her to send reinforcements right away. We'll kill Gardiner tonight and deal with the rabble later." 

Wufei and Quatre were quiet, but resolute. "I think it's best," Quatre said quietly. "With that small army on the prowl, if we don't attack first, they'll swallow us in small groups." 

Wufei nodded. "Let's get inside first, do our job and find out where we can find Gardiner." 

"Agreed," Heero whispered, and tried to ignore the sight of the bodies gathered under the walls.   


***** 

Relena curled her legs up close to her body on the sofa-chair in the lounge where the servants usually gathered in Damion's palace. She had no idea why she chose to sit here, except because maybe she was a little overwhelmed in the presence of the Council Lords and it was quieter here. Besides, she got to meet the staff this way and of course she also saw a lot of Terese. Being among friends and family was a great comfort in these times. 

The room was empty except for herself and Noin, but Audrey and Terese were on their way. Noin was sitting by the window with a book laid face-down on her knee. She didn't seem to notice that she had stopped her reading. Her face was glued to the television screen. 

"I thought they said they were going to release his picture?" Noin complained, her eyebrowss drawing low. 

The news flashed scenes of the Amarat Plain by satellite and also gathered from some the footage taken by some very courageous cameramen. Milliardo said most of what the news showed was old, but Relena kept hoping to see Heero anyway, or at least to familiarize herself with where he was. It looked harsh and hot out there from what she could tell, but she didn't allow herself to dwell on it. 

Today, she was watching specifically for an image of Gardiner. It was announced that his image would be released to the public during this broadcast, but the newscasters seemed to be taking their sweet time. 

"Have they shown him yet?" Terese demanded, banging the door open. She brought in a tea tray loaded with tea and snacks and set it on the coffee table. 

Relena took a cookie absently. 

"No," Noin told Terese. 

Terese grinned and flopped down on the couch next to Relena's chair, her hands curled around the end of the couch by her knees. She leaned forward, watching as mobs of people shouted and shook their fists on the screen. "God, it looks messy out there. I can't believe Damion is anywhere near it." 

"He's not really," Relena said, munching on her cookie. "He's a good few hours away from where anything is really heavy." 

"Well, there are Taravren soldiers out there, though," Terese said worriedly. "The whole situation is just sordid. It gives me the shivers. I can't wait until it's over." 

"It should be soon with luck," Noin said. "Une told Zechs and I that the messages were delivered. It won't take long for everyone to gather together. There could be battling as early as tomorrow." 

Relena bit her lip. "I hope Heero is okay." 

"I'm sure he will be," Terese said dismissively. "That boy has to have been biogenetically engineered. He's invincible." 

Relena smiled at Terese's effort to reassure her, but they both knew it wasn't true. She wished Heero had received her letters. It was a constant effort to remind herself that she could not jump on a plane and join him wherever he was. 

Audrey came into the room as Relena was reaching for her second cookie. She took a seat next to Terese gracefully, seeming a little bewildered by her settings. It was likely Audrey hadn't been to this part of the Palace yet, which, though not really to her discredit, still made Relena smile. She had been like that once too. 

"Oh, here it is, I think," Noin said. "Turn it up, Relena." 

Relena used to remote to turn the sound up several notches. They listened as the announcer described the scene, zooming in a large rgroup of people surrounding a solo figure standing on top of a platform. 

"That's him," Terese muttered. "Hey, he's not bad looking. No wonder he has so much appeal with crowds. What's he saying?" 

"I haven't any idea. I can't hear," Relena said, evaluating Gardiner as objectively as she could. He was tall, fairly young, with reddish-brown hair and brown eyes. She knew she shouldn't hate him. Hate was not what would end the war, but she couldn't keep a biting sharpness in her thoughts. Heero's life was in danger because of this man. Crossing her arms, she looked at Audrey to see if she felt at all the same way. 

Audrey's face was as white as a sheet, almost a sickly pale color. She didn't seem to be breathing. 

Relena uncrossed her arms slowly, stunned. "Audrey," Relena said gently, worriedly, shaking the dark-haired girl's arm. 

Audrey started, gasping and shaking her head. "Oh, God." 

"Audrey, what is it?" 

They were all looking at her now, questioning looks full of concern. 

The woman didn't answer. Putting a hand to her forehead she stood up and paced once around the room, shaking her head in silence. They watched her in bewilderment. 

"What is the matter? Do you feel sick?" Terese asked. 

Audrey didn't seem to remember they were in the room. "It can't be. It's too much coincidence. I don't believe it." She paced more deliberately, not seeming to focus on anything. 

Relena set aside her cookie and made to stand up. "Audrey...?" 

Audrey stopped, her eyes widening. "Unless it isn't coincidence at all," she gasped, barely audible. She wrapped her arms around her body and for several moments stood perfectly still. They watched in breathless silence until she suddenly started into action, catching Relena straight in the eye. Her expression was wild. "Oh, God in Heaven! My heart misgives me. What can I possibly tell him?"   
  
  


Thank you for sticking with this story!!!!!! It's been awhile since I've written action. How did it go? Please please please please please leave a review. I don't know who is reading unless you leave a review and reviews are the fuel that these stories run on. I am supposed to be studying for a test I have tomorrow morning. It is almost 2 am. Please make me feel like it was worth it, all right? Pretty please? 

I'm the cusp of the actual action and drama I've been longing to write. The next chapter (I think) is the one I have been wanting to write since about chapter 5. I do not think I will be able to leave a note saying "please review" for it so please just remember and review, okay? I know some of you ALWAYS do and believe me, I KNOW who you are and I appreciate it more than I can say. For some of the rest of you, I know a lot of you too, and if you haven't reviewed for awhile I'm probably what happened to you, so please please please leave a little note. It will make my day. 

Many many thanks. Keep reading! 


	20. The Assassination Attempt

Temper the Soul

Chapter 20

By zapenstap

Heero sat on a stool with his arms crossed, leaning backwards precariously as he listened to Wufei speak to the gathering of fugitive soldiers at the bottom of a basement in a safehouse in Camadrie. 

"We were fortunate that small army of rebels hasn't yet discovered and destroyed our communication centers," Wufei was saying. He held a slender pointing stick like a sword and swept it toward the blueprint of the city on the wall as if preparing to cut off someone's head.

There were about two dozen men gathered in the room, a mixture of Preventor soldiers, other scouts, and volunteer soldiers from a variety of nations. Many of those present had been trapped in the city while trying to restore the peace. They were all fugitives now, avoiding Gardiner's patrols and lurking in safehouses, abandoned buildings and their own hiding places, praying the civilians wouldn't sell them out. Heero was surprised so many had remained loyal in such circumstances. 

When they first arrived here, Heero noted with casual interest that one of the men in the room was from Cinq and two from Taravren. The boy from Cinq, Ryan, was barely eighteen and had been in awe of Heero since Wufei led them to the safehouse. 

Somehow it had slipped out that he had married Relena. He wished Quatre had kept his big mouth shut. He thought the looks he received for being a gundam pilot were bad enough, but Ryan seemed about ready to offer to carry his supplies and clean his gun for him after hearing that. More annoying still, he wasn't the only one. As if Heero would let _anyone_ else touch his weapons. 

The two guys from Taravren were brothers, both of them a little older then Ryan. They didn't know Heero, but they knew Relena, and when his marriage came up, Damion's presence at the ceremony did too. Everything slid downhill from there. Thankfully, neither of the Taravren brothers, Jake and Leif, seemed ready to offer him any services, but they had both asked pointed questions. Between them and Ryan, Heero gathered a subtle distinction between the way Relena and Damion were viewed by the people of their homelands. Relena was a politician and something of an icon or heroine. Jake and Leif talked about Prince Damion like people of other nations discussed the government or a particular political party, as if he was the government personified. Their interest in him personally was genuine, and they seemed to have a surprisingly good idea of what he was like, probably because they had been hearing about him since he was born. 

"I wish we could get started," Heero muttered to Quatre, and tried not to show how restless he felt. It was an odd feeling, especially since he understood the full importance of this briefing. But he knew the plan forward and back before Wufei began, and for some reason he was accosted by a profound sense of urgency and to pressure to act quickly. He felt like he was missing something, and had since they agreed out on the plain to come here.

In contrast, Trowa was patiently leaning against the wall with his head bowed and arms crossed, his slender frame devoid of the cloak the rest of them had settled over their shoulders. Trowa had come in from the outside alone, having left his tech team without a single man to guard his back. He had slipped into the city and joined their group as if he had always been there. None of the other pilots had been surprised to see him, of course. He had a tech set settled around his neck still, but he would be going in with them when they went after Gardiner. Instead of a cloak he had one of those white bandanas with Gardiner's insignia wrapped around his head. Heero didn't bother asking where he had gotten it. 

"Every man is instrumental. It's important you understand what everyone is doing." Wufei was saying.

Heero tapped his arm impatiently. He wanted to catch this Gardiner, bring him to justice, and destroy the uneasiness in his gut quickly. He didn't think his impatience had anything to do with Relena this time. He missed her exceedingly, of course, especially since he went into the field and stopped receiving her letters, but he didn't feel his apprehension encompassed her. He felt like something else was wrong.

He hoped he wasn't merely paranoid.

The plan was in place. The Preventor's peacekeepers were gathering outside the city, growing safer as their small groups merged and became a larger force to be reckoned with. Still, something was off. Perhaps it was this situation in general, the way it didn't make sense. 

"The manor Gardiner is staying at is heavily guarded," Wufei barked, slapping the wall with his stick. "Some of you will be solely responsible for minimizing this complication and it must be done in a time frame. We'll have a window of about thirty minutes for about a dozen of us to enter the complex, secure the area and bring out Gardiner. Once he is in our possession, we hope this situation will turn in our favor. Expect there to be fighting! Gardiner has a lot of followers and they're rabid. When their leader falls, they may become desperate. Tomorrow we will outnumber them, but a beast in a corner fights hard, so keep your wits about you."

They were all quiet. Heero did not look around the room at he faces around him. There was no point getting to know people who might be dead tomorrow. He supposed they probably felt the same way about him

*****

Audrey fled into her rooms and shut the double doors, slamming them closed with a hollow thud. She leaned against them for a moment, both hands flat on the wood, sucking air in through her mouth. Relena and Terese's bewildered expressions floated through the sidelines of her memory, but they were faded compared to the way Gardiner's face from the television screen stuck in her head. He had looked different, but not so much that she did not recognize him, and in more detail than she wanted. She remembered abstractly that he had had beautiful hands, long fingers, lightly tanned. Her stomach fluttered.

Stumbling across the room, she lowered the blinds and shut the curtains, cutting off the path of the sunlight from the sky to her room. _Oh, Damion_. She moved to her desk and pulled open the top drawer. _What will he think of me?_ Her hands shook a little as she searched for a pencil. What would he _feel_? There was a stack of stationery in the next drawer. Damion's eyes seemed to be watching her as she looked for materials with which to explain. She could see those eyes in exquisite detail, pale gray like silver orbs, such a striking contrast with his dark hair. She would need several sheets. Words ran through her mind, verses loaded with emotion, even passion, but the most eloquent phrases weren't good enough. Trying to imagine Damion's expression when he found out, she remembered what had happened when she told him she was not a virgin, when she told him she had gotten drunk and slept with a complete stranger before she had even given this arranged marriage a chance. She always knew the name and the face of the man she spent that night with, but she had not allowed herself to believe they were the same as the name and face of the Abel responsible for so much sorrow. It seemed to her that the coincidence was too great, and for some reason that terrified her.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she found paper and threw it on the desk. "Oh god," she cried, lifting a pencil from the glass in the corner of the desk. As she sat down, it somehow snapped in her hands. The shards toppled from either side of her thumb, hitting her leg as they fell to the ground. Vision blurry, she reached for a pen and collapsed into her chair. She hadn't even the strength to light a candle.

Desperately she tried to recall details of that night, to make some _use_ of it for Damion, but it was so long ago and she had been half gone before she even met Abel Gardiner. All she really remembered was that he had been good-looking and possessed a commanding presence and a candid way of speaking. He had not been overly nice, but he had not been mean either. Rather he had seemed impeccably frank and something in her that night had appreciated that. He said things like they were without regret. Perhaps she had mistaken that for strength, but now she knew it was dangerous. In retrospect, she wouldn't put any of what she saw on the news past him. In the morning she hadn't really expected him to be there, or to see him ever again, but neither had she expected to end up in that situation at all. Thinking about it later had almost broken her. Getting so horribly drunk was bad enough, but knowing she had been used, that she had lost her virginity to a stranger and didn't recall it, that she had put her entire future in jeopardy… The combination of events in juxtaposition to her character had been enough to silence her for months, but a core of steel in her character had carried her through it. Granted, she was angry, but if she had not fallen in love with a prince, she would never have gotten this emotional about it. She told herself it was just something that happened, and knew it was true, but how would Damion feel about it, about _this_ man?

She had accepted the situation for what it was, a mere sexual experience she regretted, but still the coincidence tortured her. Why him at that time? What had he meant by it? Had he targeted her, or had he merely wanted a woman that night? If the former, what did that mean? She tried to recall how it had happened, how he had persuaded her to sleep with him. But she couldn't. What words were spoken didn't register. It was too long ago and she had been in a truly abominable state. She had never had a sip of alcohol between that night and Damion's party. It was no surprise she had reacted so horribly when Damion first tried to kiss her then. The alcohol, his hands trapping her arms, the memories, her mother's voice… It had caused a panic in her.

The page before her was still blank. Perhaps she should merely beg for him to come home. But would it really be any easier then? She wanted to see him regardless, but she needed to tell him now, before… she didn't know what, but her heart misgave her. If he found out some other way, if something happened… 

Unexpectedly, she wept, her hands cupping her nose and mouth under her eyes. This was impossible. She tried to imagine Damion when he was not angry at her and the image was soothing. Her hands relaxed to her lap again and she drew a shuddering breath, her imagination taking her to a time when he would wrap his arms around her again, as he had done on the balcony not so terribly long ago. Or would she see that broken look in his face, like she had seen when she first revealed her history, and see a door slammed in her face? Damion had always forgiven her. He had never for a moment stopped trying to love her, to understand her. She owed him so much, and her debts kept piling up. 

"Audrey! Audrey, open the door!"

Relena's voice, and the sound of her fists banging on the wood.

Scrubbing tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand, she stood and let her in.

"Audrey," Relena said with concern, lowering her hands. 

"I wish I could go there," Audrey said before she thought. "I need to speak with him."

"To Damion?" Relena asked, and then seemed to notice her red eyes and tear-streaked cheeks. "Whatever is the matter? You aren't changing your mind, are you, about marrying him? Because…"

"No," she said quickly, "I love him. I just… there is something I need to say." She unconsciously twisted the engagement ring on her finger, a habit she had picked up since he had left for the war.

"I want to see Heero too, but we can't just…. Can you tell me what is going on?"

Audrey could not, not because it hurt too much, but because she feared it was Damion's secret as much as it was hers.

Relena evaluated her silently, and seemed to find an answer there. She took a deep breath and stood up straighter. "All right," the Cinq princess said, her face scrunching up in determination. "You tell him what you need to in a letter and I'll make a few phone calls. We'll get it to him by this afternoon, okay?"

This afternoon. Audrey nodded, but something inside her felt cold.

*****

Mission status.

Back pressed up against a wall of an alley, Heero waited with a gun in his hand, counting silently. Quatre had just crossed the street ahead of him, sticking to the shadows, his small figure ducking into a neighboring alley. Heero could hear little except the wind. He waited for fifteen seconds and then followed after the blonde gundam pilot.

He made his way out into the open and across the path of daylight between the streets without incident, but he aware of snipers that might be set on the roofs of the buildings or cameras tucked into the cracks of the walls. Without giving his mind the freedom to wander, he counted how many seconds passed before he met up with Quatre. Together, they vanished into the shadows and moved against the wall. Crouching in the dust, Quatre shook back his hood, revealing flaxen blonde hair, smooth pale skin and large blue eyes. It always amazed Heero how child-like he looked a lot of the time, but he carried a gun like the rest of them.

They had seen few civilians. Most people had locked themselves in their houses. Guards wandered the street with shotguns and they looked ready to shoot anything that moved. Occasionally "searches" were performed in which guards kicked open the doors of civilian houses and searched for Preventors, spies or any solider of any army other than their own. They had managed to avoid them so far. 

"Ready?" Quatre whispered.

They were standing about a block from Gardiner's manor. 

"Tell Wufei we're in position," Heero said.

Quatre relayed the message and they waited, hearts pounding, for the order to move in. Heero wished he could see the guards patrolling the house from here, and the other Preventors assigned to take them down, but in a well-executed plan, you only knew what you yourself were doing. Only Trowa and Wufei would have any idea what _everyone_ was doing.

"All right," Trowa's voice came through the receiver in Heero's earpiece. "Go."

Gun tucked away in his belt, Heero began running before Trowa's direction cut off, Quatre right beside him. Trusting their way was clear, they dashed across the open spaces without a heed to their surroundings. At the far end of the second alley they leaped a wall, both in one jump. Landing on the other side, Quatre followed Heero as he climbed to the top of the building adjacent to Gardiner's Manor.

The skies were clear. Out of the corner of his eye, Heero caught sight of one of their own men as he and Quatre made their way across the roof. The man was crouching in the spot where one of Gardiner's guards had been, but he was scanning the perimeter of the building, not watching them. Heero didn't have to wonder what happened to the real guard. He had little time to think about anything but his part in this mission. 

There was about a gap four feet across between this building and Gardiner's, but he and Quatre leaped it together without hesitation. His shoes scuffed against the roof tiles and he had to bring a hand down to catch himself, only the tips of his fingers pressing into the wood. Quatre landed behind him in a crouch, cursing a little. Without speaking, Heero rose and grabbed Quatre's arm. They both made their way to the other end of the roof, looking for the skylight Wufei told them would be there.

"I see it," Quatre said, gesturing the pane of glass imbedded in the roof. The skylight was supposed to be guarded with trip wires, but they had to assume Lief and Jake had done their part in disabling them. This part of the mission could not exceed seven minutes. 

Kneeling over the glass, Heero watched as Quatre cut the skylight out of the roof with a glasscutter. Together, they managed to remove the pane intact. They were supposed to use a cable to descend into the building, but now that it came to it, he didn't see a reason to waste the time. Heero leaped in. 

"Heero!" Quatre hissed.

The ground met his feet with a force to jar his bones, but he crouched, absorbing the shock, and then moved out of the way. A moment later Quatre landed in the room. Grunting, Heero removed his gun and looked about them. Polished wood floors and white washed walls met his eyes as they adjusted to the darkness. A few pieces of furniture lay scattered about the room, lonely in the shadows.

"Don't take unnecessary risks, Heero," Quatre warned, dusting off his knees.

He grunted. "That way," he said, gesturing to the right-hand corridor. 

Quatre sighed.

The house was absolutely silent. Granted, the guards were supposed to have been compromised by this time, but it was still eerie. Heero tread carefully, more alert than he had been in a long time. He could feel the wood under his shoes and the tense quality of the air as he and Quatre sped down the hall. Every time they came to a door they opened it, checking for any hidden opposition.

In other areas of the house, others were doing the same. Slowly, their people were occupying the premise. Two minutes early, he and Quatre burst into the main foyer, their boots skidding on the white tiles. Ryan and two other men of their party met them there, looking surprised. Heero was surprised to see them too. In two minutes the alarm system would come back on. They had sent everyone on different pathways to maximize their chances of penetrating the defenses and coming upon Gardiner. Whoever was not in the main foyer in the allotted seven minutes would not make it any farther. He had expected more people to run into opposition. He had thought they would escape this building by the scruff of their necks if at all. 

Apparently not the case. Leif, Jake, Trowa and Wufei joined them from the front. Heero frowned. That was most of the groups. Eleven people.

"This is weird," Quatre whispered. 

"Too easy," Heero agreed. 

"All the guards are down," Leif murmured. 

"Were they all there?" Heero demanded.

"Yeah," Jake replied, but he sounded a little bewildered. "Security was intact."

"All the other rooms have been secured?" Quatre whispered.

Leif nodded. "The back corridor to the underground control center is the last place, if it's really there at all."

"We know there's a secret room under the house," Trowa whispered. "Is everyone ready?"

Heero nodded, hefting his gun and strolling past Trowa toward the doors in the back of the Foyer. His boots echoed loudly on the tiles. They had always expected to find Gardiner and any of his personal guards below ground, but something felt wrong. Unconsciously, he started listing all the things he knew about Gardiner, from his birthplace to his recent activities to the things he said and what they knew about him. It wasn't a lot of information, but he felt there was a key there somewhere to the secret of his uneasiness.

As a group they moved into the corridor behind the foyer and followed it about a hundred paces into a darkening gloom. Taking the lead, Wufei led them to a place in the wall where the paneling was slightly askew. 

"Trick door," Jake muttered. 

Smiling, Wufei revealed a passageway and a staircase leading down into a pit. The Chinese warrior waved them forward and as a team they descended single file down a narrow passage of metal stairs buried in the rock. Heero followed directly behind Wufei, fingering the handle of his gun. After a moment he saw light over Wufei's shoulder and what looked like gray floor paneling. It was definitely brightly lit down there, the light of more than a few computers. It was a control center.

Wufei stopped and looked back all of them, his eyes glittering. "Ready?"

They must have nodded. Heero took a deep breath and closed his eyes, thinking of Relena's letters. A moment later he was moving.

They burst into a room like an explosion, fanning out into a semi-circle with loaded guns, ready to confront any opposition. 

"Freeze!" Wufei shouted. The click of safeties being released reverberated throughout their line.

The room beneath the manor was expansive, several hundred feet in width and filled with desks, maps, computers and papers. It could have contained a network of several dozen people. It definitely contained some of the most advanced equipment.

But it was abandoned, save for one chair in the center of the room. 

In the chair was one person, a cloth sack pulled over his head, his hands tied behind him.

"What the…?" Trowa said in disbelief, lowering his gun.

"Is that Gardiner?" Leif said in amazement.

"Huh," Jake muttered. "Fed their leader as a sacrifice to the gods and booked it out of here, did they?"

Whoever was in the chair began struggling, kicking and rotating his shoulders and elbows in an effort to free his hands. He seemed to be talking, even shouting, but his mouth must have been trapped shut because Heero couldn't make out any words. Still, something about the way he flailed about tugged at his mind.

Instinct hit him suddenly.

"Get out of the room," he said loudly, twisting around and flinging an arm out toward the soldiers. "Go! Back! Get out of the building!"

Trowa caught on to his desperation and backed him up immediately. "You heard him. Go," he said on calmer tones, but the intensity caught Heero's underlying urgency. Nine of the eleven men who had entered the room turned and left, eyes wild and unsure, running back up the stairs in single file, their weapons clattering. Only the gundam pilots remained.

"Heero," Trowa said, "what is it?"

Without answering, without even waiting until the others began moving, Heero threw his gun aside and ran across the room to the man in the chair. Pulling a knife from his boot, he slashed the cords tying the man's wrists together and snatched the cloth off his head.

Duo stared back at him, braid swinging as he struggled out of his bonds. "The room is wired to explode," he cursed when Heero ripped the tape off his mouth. Leaping to his feet, he began running, waving his arms at the other gundam pilots. "Didn't you here soldier-boy? Topside, everybody. What are you waiting for? To be exploded? Go!"

Gunfire rang out above them.

Wufei cursed.

Doubly motivated, Quatre, Trowa and Wufei turned and raced back up the stairs. Heero followed on Duo's heels, counting the seconds again. On any one of them the room might explode.

They reached the top stumbling on each other's heels. 

There were traces of smoke in the air…and bodies on the ground. Heero recognized Ryan, blood pooling around his body from a bullet wound in the chest. He hadn't been wearing a bullet-proof vest. He didn't try to think about it. That wasn't the way of a soldier. He had a duty to do. There were three other bodies with him, but all of them were Gardiner's men. 

"They were waiting for us," Trowa breathed. "Somehow they knew." He looked back at Duo.

"Hey, don't look at me. I didn't tell them anything," Duo said, raising his hands above his head. "Hell, I didn't _know_ anything. It looks like the majority of your guys got out anyway," he added, pointing to the number dead. "There weren't _that_ many people here. If you took down the usual guards, these three were probably all who were left."

The ground rumbled. "We need to get out of the building," Wufei said, looking at the ceiling. 

No one argued. Even Duo shut up as they ran to the back doors and slid out of the house and into the alleyway. No sooner did Heero step into the shade than the ground shuddered with a muffled explosion. Half the manor house collapsed inward suddenly, caving in on itself, on the underground room that had been blown to bits.

All five gundam pilots stood breathless in the dark of the alleyway, watching the roof crumble downward, the walls fall inward. Bits of debris showered down to the ground. After a moment, the shuddering stopped. The manor remained mostly intact, though distorted, but anybody underground would have perished in flame and rock.

Wufei turned to Duo. "I'm glad you are alive, but where is Gardiner? And how did you get here?"

Duo shook his head. "They picked me up after I relayed that transmission to you guys. I don't know why only the Taravren line was working properly." He sighed, rolling his eyes skyward. "But you know, that's the breaks. I was hoping I could do some good, but no such luck. Gardiner's gone. He left this morning with almost an entire patrol, all his best guys. Everybody that's left here is a scavenger. His real loyalists went with him."

Heero felt nothing. Nor did he respond. It was as he had guessed. The men they had seen coming in… Gardiner was among them.

"We missed him by an hour," Quatre breathed. "I could have been standing with him!"

"We saw the convoy leave," Trowa said, crossing his arms. He paused for a moment in reflective silence. "Damn."

Quatre still looked startled. "Did you meet him, Duo?"

Duo shrugged. "Yeah, sort of. He's a total psycho if you ask me. Clever, but crazy. He seemed to like me, though. At least, he didn't treat me too terribly. Don't get me wrong; that guy has a cruel streak a mile wide. I've seen him order people shot for no reason, but I've never seen him carry a gun himself. I was lucky. He seemed to think it was some sort of right of passage that I used to be a street kid. He would go on and on about "true" democracy and all this nonsense about the evils associated with wealth and privilege, but …Heero, what's the matter?"

Suddenly, everything made sense. Gardiner's history, his speeches, the Taravren line, the timing of when he left…everything.

"I must be _blind_," Heero said harshly to no one, his arms hanging loose at his sides. His heart was racing. His lungs felt compressed. Without explaining, he reloaded his gun and turned, heading for the nearest city exit. 

"Whoa, Heero!" Duo said, practically tripping after him. Quatre blinked large blue eyes, flipping his coat over his shoulder as he caught Heero on the other side. "What is it?" the blonde pilot asked. 

"I know where Gardiner's gone," Heero told them, beginning to sprint. Within a few seconds he was bolting at a dead run, ignoring the warnings of the others that the streets were dangerous.

"Slow down, Heero," Trowa said. "You'll get yourself killed! Where are you going?"

They were all following him, but he hardly noticed. He scanned the area, searching for a vehicle. A plane, a car, a motorcycle, anything! 

All five of them ran into the men who had followed them into the manor. Wufei and the others stopped dead with relief, but Heero hardly noticed them. He kept going, pushing passed the bodies, his mind racing in alarming circles. Leif and Jake wore equally bewildered expressions on their faces. He especially tried not to think about them. One of the men beside them had a gun at his hip, probably fully loaded.

"Wait, Heero!" Quatre cried as the others busied himself among the others. "What have you found out? We have to…"

"He's after Damion," Heero snapped as he snatched the gun from the man beside Leif, practically ripping it of its holder and stuffing it in his belt. "He always has been."

*****

It was unbelievably hot in this room. Damion wanted nothing more than to rip the cross-buttoned black coat off his back, lounge in a chair by the sea and drink lemonade, preferably on the beach of an exotic island. He chuckled. Hell, who didn't want that? The circlet on his head was almost a painful appendage. It felt like it was slipping from gathering sweat at his brow. Heavy black boots would also not be his choice of apparel, but they had a necessary function at least, sturdy shoes if he ever had to leave the building and wade through the sand and the dust storms billowing outside. 

It didn't help that the room was full of people. Four of his guardsmen, Oswald, captain of the guards, two of his household servants and three men who were messengers from the other leaders all gathered in the lookout room. The three messengers were the reason he was all dressed up today, or at least the reason he was wearing his circlet and having to stand straight at all times like he was a tree rooted to the ground. 

"Prince Damion, Seventy-five per cent of Taravren soldiers have reported in," one of the messengers was saying, flipping through a clipboard of papers. "Sixty-nine per cent have obeyed the orders to gather near Camadrie and obey the orders of officers selected by Preventor Headquarters."

The door opened and a guard bowed Manny in with a smile at Damion.

"Mail, Master Damion," Manny said in response to the messenger, strolling into the room with a stack of envelopes. 

Damion's heart thumped more strongly in his chest as his eyes riveted to the letters in Manny's hands. He had to consciously keep his feet flat on the floor. Manny caught his eye and grinned at him. He had trouble not grinning back. Manny's expression indicated that there was a letter from Audrey. That was two today.

"On the table," Damion said calmly with a wave for the benefit of the messengers. Of course, Manny would already know what to do with it, but he ought to look like he gave orders to everyone. And he definitely did not want to look as excited as he felt. "The other thirty per cent?" he prompted, turning back to the messenger.

"Some are missing in action, but we expect the majority to report in soon."

"And the impending battle?" Damion asked.

Another of the messengers cleared his throat. "Gardiner's people have been flocking to the activity in Camadrie, Prince Regent. Our people and his are swarming all over the hills. The plain might as well be a shooting gallery. It's only a matter of time before there's open conflict."

"And the reinforcements from Lady Une?" 

"On their way, sir," the third messenger informed him with a grin. "In maybe a few days time this will all be over."

He nodded and tried to hide his relief. He needed to appear organized and unruffled, but the anticipation of being through with this was almost too much. True, in a few days and there would be a lot of dead bodies and broken families resulting from these trials, but there would also be peace in this place, and more senseless killing aborted. He could go home and tell the people who was still alive, who was coming home. He could see Audrey, his soon-to-be wife, take her face in his hands and kiss her. It had been far too long since he had seen her. His excitement at being able to love her after what she had written in all of these letters … He felt like a child on Christmas Eve.

Manny was arranging the mail on the table and smiled as he pointedly set aside a long white envelope, laying it carefully on the table so that Damion would notice. It was thick, but it was clearly not business mail. Damion tilted his head to the side, pondering what Audrey had written him.

Outside the room there was a sudden commotion, halting the man's speech mid-sentence. Damion frowned, listening to the muffled shouting through the wall and what sounded like orders being barked by his guards. Oswald had already moved toward the door to investigate, drawing his gun for safety's sake. 

"What's going on?" one of the messengers asked.

Damion was thinking the crisis was that someone had knocked over a filing cabinet until shots suddenly rang out, followed by shouts. He started at the sounds, jumping a little, shivers running up his body. 

The mood in the room changed in a heartbeat.

"Protect the Prince!" Oswald shouted. "Everyone move back against the wall!" 

Within seconds his guards were standing to either side of him, weapons ready. Damion swallowed uncertainly, breathing irregularly and trying not to show it. He exchanged looks with Manny, who had been pushed back near the wall with the messengers. Damion himself did not move, his arms still clasped behind his back. He forced the soles of his feet to stick to one spot and did not change his expression a hair. He felt the panic around him build and reacted by standing even straighter.

Everyone in the room was watching him. Everyone was looking at him to tell them what was happening, to fix it if necessary. He watched the door, keeping his head up. The circlet around his forehead seemed to burn his skin.

The door was kicked open. Strange men strode in through the door in pairs, hefting heavy artillery. The first of them to enter grappled with Oswald forcefully, brutally knocking him on his stomach and kneeling over his fallen form to take his gun. Damion eyes darted to his fallen captain, but he did not move or speak. The man was not dead, just down. All of the men entering were strangers to Damion, marching in an orderly fashion with grim faces and guns raised. Within ten seconds the room was filled with twice as many people as before. Every one of Damion's own had a gun pointed at his head. 

"Nobody move," Damion said sharply as his guards raised their weapons to protect him. If shots rang out now he was afraid it wouldn't end until everyone was dead. "Hold your fire."

Still he didn't let anything show on his face, waiting in grim silence. His guards were disarmed systematically before his eyes. Damion's heart beat in his chest like a kettledrum. His stomach fluttered so badly his entire body trembled, but he hid it as best he could.

"That's right," a new voice almost sang. "Nobody move."

In through the door came another man, tall and slender-built with sun-browned skin, reddish-brown hair and brown eyes. He wore casual clothes for the most part and carried a cigarette instead of a gun. He was flanked by two men, one a grizzled old bear of a fellow, heavy-set and seemingly in some position of authority, the other a younger man with hard black eyes and a face that could have been chiseled out of stone. The latter man wore a twisted smile on his face. The larger, heavier man looked as grim as death, and just as emotionless.

Damion recognized the man in the middle as Abel Gardiner, but his mind could not process it. It was like watching a movie come to life. The man strolled into the room like someone who was entering a house he might consider buying. His expression was just a tad shy of something almost like amusement as he looked around the room speculatively, but his eyes glittered strangely. He held a cigarette between the first two fingers of his right hand and brought it to his mouth, breathing in a long drag of smoke. He cocked his head at all of them, smiling.

Gardiner's eyes swept passed everyone in the room briefly, but they fell last and longest on Damion. "So, you're Prince Regent Damion Ravineere," he noted casually.

It seemed pointless to lie. "I am," he said with a straight face, half hidden by his guards. His mind raced for some sort of plan of action, some way he could avert disaster here. 

"Ah," Gardiner said, dropping his cigarette and crushing it under his boot. "You're the guy I want then." He signaled to two of his men and they moved toward Damion together. "Take him," Gardiner said. The fellow with the glittering black eyes moved toward him too.

Someone gasped and the weight of everyone in the room shifted. Damion's guards moved to block the path of Gardiner's men, despite the guns aimed at their heads. A clatter of clicking echoed from every man holding a gun as his other guards and servants rose on the balls of their feet, ready to spring in front of gunfire in his defense. Damion sucked air in through his teeth.

"Master Damion!" Manny yelled shrilling, struggling forward.

Damion turned his head and flung out an arm. "Stay where you are, Manny! Stay!" Damion shouted at him, and had to take deep breaths to calm himself. Manny skidded to a stop, chest heaving and eyes wild. "Be easy," Damion said more calmly, lowering his hand. "Everyone stop. Calm down." His own heart vibrated in his chest. Where were the rest of his guards? His mind took him outside the door, through the hallway, down the stairwell to the main floor and outside around the building. He saw the path littered with bodies.

Gardiner eyes met his and Damion swallowed. Gardiner's brown eyes were deep with hate, like piercing arrows tainted with poison. Realization of what was about to happen dawned on Damion suddenly, like a punch in the gut.

"Kill everyone but the Prince," Gardiner said in a low voice, and waved a hand almost negligently.

The room erupted in chaos, or it felt like chaos to him. His guards moved to block the two men trying to seize him, but he felt Gardiner's men wrap their hands around his arms anyway, pulling him out into the open. His guards toppled at his feet and he realized they had been hit or shot, but didn't remember how it happened. Gritting his teeth, he fought back, smacking their hands away, wishing he had a gun or a quarterstaff or even a knife on his person. Angrily, Damion elbowed one of his captors in the stomach and wrenched his arm out of the grip of the other.

"Damion!" Manny shouted again, curtly, and Damion realized everyone else was being pushed back and lined up by the window by men carrying guns like riflemen in a firing squad. Manny had broken out of the line and was moving toward him, though, ducking under the arm of one of the guards. He looked ready to hit someone…hard. 

The man with the black eyes turned away from Damion, raised his gun, and fired. Once.

Time might as well have stopped for all the sense anything made at that moment.

Manny's body hit the ground heavily, face first, like a scarecrow cut from a pole in a field. It was the only sound Damion heard for several seconds. It reminded him of nothing he had ever heard before. Damion stopped in a void, a space without sound or movement, standing loosely, his mouth parted. For a moment he thought the blood that splattered the floor and his shoes belonged to someone else, but abruptly he realized that that was because he could no longer recognize Manny's face. It had been blown apart, like rotten fruit, mouth gaping open where it was still intact, at least one eye wide open and staring. He couldn't find the other one. The blood was everywhere, on everything. And he didn't move. It was like he just…stopped. That thing on the ground wasn't human; it wasn't anything. It just lay there, crumpled, dead, flesh torn open, blood pooling out on the floor and around its head and body.

Someone was screaming inside his head and none of it made any sense at all.

__

Oh God.

Oh God. Oh God.

Air escaped his lungs with the tears from his eyes. The cry that tore from his mouth felt like it ripped his throat, but the pain was not great enough. He lashed out wildly, knocking over the man who attempted to grab him without seeing him. The burning in his stomach could have been fire or acid or vomit; he wouldn't have known the difference. Every muscle in his body shook with such force he thought his bones were going to be split apart. Two steps and he had his hands around the black-eyed man's throat. The crunch of the bones in his neck as they snapped satisfied him on some primal level, but he couldn't sense or feel much of anything except the shaking in his limbs. The man fell out of his hands and sagged to the floor beside Manny's mangled body, collapsing in his blood. Damion's shoes were in it too.

Other sounds only registered slowly, but he could scarcely make sense of them.

"Knock him out! God damn it." The voice sounded annoyed.

Whatever crashed into his head was welcome. Blackness enfolded him like a curtain, a velvet drapery dropped over his body and mind, sucking him into some netherworld without light to see dreams or visions. A round of gunshots fired as he sank into it, slumping to the ground. His last sensation was the smell of blood in his nose, the feeling of his circlet being yanked forcibly from his head, and the immense relief he felt at its absence.


	21. Pain

Temper the Soul

Chapter 21

By zapenstap

Audrey sat in a chair on the balcony and closed her eyes, letting the breeze blow through her hair and caress her face like a soft kiss from afar.  This was the same balcony where Damion had first wrapped his arms around her and told her how much he wanted to be with her. She remembered being afraid of his embrace.   Her fingers curved around the ends of the armrests and she leaned her shoulders against the back of the chair, wondering what really frightened her.  Sometimes she came out here when it was quiet and she didn't want to be bothered.   Usually she was came out here to wait.  She missed him.  It had felt nice to be close to another human being like that, especially one that loved her as he did.  That was when she first began to believe he did.  Before that she had discounted his efforts to infatuation, fantasy and maybe lust.   How quickly the time had gone and how much things had changed.  She could still remember the things he had said to her and how she felt hearing them.  Of course she wondered how he was doing, if he had received her letter yet.   Would he feel the same once he had read it?

She crossed her ankles and rested her hands on her legs, opening her eyes to stare out over the city.  She wore pants today, white silk pants with wide legs, much like the blue ones she had worn when she first met him.  Her blouse was white too, with only thick straps instead of sleeves.  This heat wave was so odd for the time of year.  She had not bothered much with her hair this morning, so it hung around her face in dark waves that were not quite curls.

"Audrey!"

She turned, startled at the sound of Terese's high-pitched shout.  Standing fluidly, she walked back through the double french doors that led to the balcony and back into the darkened hallway of the palace.  "What is it?" she asked.

Terese met her in the hall, eyes and hair equally wild.  "The Council Lords have just received a call from Gardiner," she said, pushing hair out of her face and attempting to tuck the wayward strands behind her ears.  She blinked large, startled eyes at Audrey. "They stormed out of the council room minutes ago in such a panic, I…"  Her hands began shaking.  "Oh God.  Something dreadful has happened.  I just know it!"

Audrey's own heart plummeted out of her chest, and yet, she felt a calmness envelope her.  Gently, she grasped Terese's shoulders, steadying her.  "Terese.  Terese, did they tell you anything?"

"They're not speaking to the staff," she mumbled, grabbing Audrey's hands.  "Audrey, what do you think happened?"

"I will find out.  Wait here."

Gathering her courage, she moved past Terese and ran down the hall, hoping to intercept the Lords in the north wing.  She caught a group of them at the junction, recognizing Alice Millimant, Lady of Wentenshore, Garret Iselin of Northfield and James Cattigan, Lord of Holden as some of the oldest members and most respected members of the Council.  Swiftly gliding around them to stand in front of them, she met those three with a level and demanding gaze.  "What has happened to Prince Damion?" 

"Lady First Choice," Alice Millimant said in way of greeting, her gray hair tied tightly in a knot above her head.  Her face was an older woman's face, the wrinkles embedded deep, and there was not even a spark of humor in her eyes.  "Please let us deal with this situation.  You will be informed of matters when…"

"I will be Queen of Taravren," she countered in as powerful a voice as she had ever used to anyone since coming here.  Her eyes riveted to their faces and locked there, daring them to discount her.  "When Damion returns."  She accented the _"when."  "Now tell me what has happened."_

"You may not," James Cattigan returned acidly.  "If he doesn't return you certainly will not."

Her heart trembled, but she did not allow herself to weaken or let it distract her.  Instead, she stood her ground, narrowing her eyes.  "Tell me what has happened," she repeated, and was glad she was of a height with Alice at least.  "I will not faint or spread rumors whatever the news, if that is what you are afraid of.  But I do deserve to know.  Please," she begged in the end.

"He's been taken," Garret Iselin told her.  The others glared at him, but he silenced their disapproval with a glance.  "Gardiner has taken him.  We don't know where."

She refused to let her mind run in worried circles or to allow herself to imagine more than what she knew.  "Has Gardiner demanded anything?  What is to be done?"

"He hasn't demanded anything yet," Iselin said, his eyes staring at nothing.  "We are more worried he will kill him arbitrarily."  He lowered his head when he said it, refusing to meet her in the eyes.

Alice Millimant put a hand to her mouth, her eyes glistening.  "I would never forgive myself…" she began, but trailed off.  The men looked equally troubled.

Audrey's mouth parted in surprise, moved by their reaction.  She knew the Council worked Damion hard and were sometimes callous, but they cared.  Of course they did.  They had watched him grow up.  They all considered themselves his mentors and had been trying to ease him from a boy prince's responsibilities to the requirements made of a king.  They loved him exceedingly, even those that did not like him much.  Of course the stability of the state was wrapped up in him as well, but they were not worrying about that right now.  Or if they were, it was on a different level.

But it was clear they had not decided what to do.  "Did he say how it happened?  Do we even know for sure if he was taken?"

"Yes," Iseline growled.  "We have been sent his circlet, stained with blood, I'm afraid.  We are having the DNA tested, but the results will take a little time.  In addition we were also sent video, though there was not much to it.  He's unconscious in the footage, but very much alive, and relatively unhurt, so far anyway.   We don't know anything more, but it is impossible to believe he could be taken without significant force. We have to believe that most everyone guarding him was killed."

Audrey felt as if she had been punched in the gut.  Stained with blood?   Relatively unhurt so far? She did not want to see the video.  "And what did Gardiner say?"

"Just that he had our prince and would contact us later."  Iselin's lips curled in a sneer.  "The man has a lot of arrogance for a mere rabble rouser."

"Oh, but he hates him," James Cattigan intoned.  "And us.  He didn't even make any demands.  He seemed more amused by the situation, by our shock and distress…  The look in his eye… I fear for the life of the Prince, or worse."

Audrey closed her eyes, suppressing her revulsions, her fears, her anxiety, and her love.  "Thank you," she said breathlessly, and turned to go.

"Audrey," Alice halted her by her first name.  "Do not spread rumors. We don't really know anything."

"I would like to inform Terese of what has happened," she said. 

Grudgingly, they agreed.

Audrey made her way back to Terese half in a daze, refusing to think in detail on her fears.  She found her in the hallway, leaning against the wall and nervously playing with her hair.  The girl looked up when she saw her, and Audrey simply relayed what she knew.

She told Terese none of James Cattigan's fears, but only the basic facts.  It was enough by itself.  Terese's reaction was difficult for Audrey to bear.  She gasped and shuddered and stumbled until she fell into Audrey's arms, demanding assurances that everything was okay and everyone would soon be home.  Audrey couldn't give her that reassurance, but she stroked her hair anyway and told her they would do everything they could.  Strangely, Terese did not ask the obvious question.  Was Manny with Damion or was he with the others, possibly dead?  Audrey did not bring it up.  She figured that Terese probably knew the alternatives and chose to deny them until they had confirmation on something concrete.  Audrey was the type to mentally prepare herself in advance for bad news so that facing it was easier, but not Terese.  Holding the girl in her arms and rubbing her back was all she could do, and an experience entirely foreign to her.  Her own emotions practically shut down when she considered what could have happened and what might be in store for Damion.  She thought about it as objectively as she could.  Manny might be dead.  Damion might be near death himself, or in pain, tortured, or perfectly fine.  Manny could be with him.  Anything was possible.  She refused to let herself dwell on any one possibility, but she denied none.  It wouldn't do to break down now.  She couldn't afford it. Damion couldn't afford it.

Especially if she was going to do what she felt she must.

Eventually Terese pried herself out of her grip.  "Damion," she said with a smile, wiping tears from her eyes.  "He'll be fine.  He'll be home soon."

Audrey hoped so, but she could not lie.  "Be strong, Terese," she said.  "We don't know what is going to happen."

The girl shut her eyes, but she stood up, scrubbing tears from her cheeks. 

"But I'm going to go to him," Audrey told her then, setting her face to reflect her resolve.

Terese looked so confused.  "Audrey…"

"I know Able Gardiner," she said, staring over Terese's shoulder at nothing.  Slowly, she nodded to herself.  "I'm going to go to him."  If Able hurt him… She closed her eyes and refused to think of it. 

When she opened them Terese was just looking at her, her face tear-streaked, but there was hope mixed with the fear in her eyes.

"And I am going to go with you," a coolly composed voice murmured.

Audrey turned and rose slowly, looking over her shoulder.  Julia stood in the entryway to the hall, resplendent in a yellow gown, her hair curled and pinned up on her head, ringlets hanging down her face.  Little flowers and butterflies nested in her curls.  

Julia smiled.  "Don't look so surprised.  Little happens in this province that I do not know about.  I have been studying Gardiner.  I have learned a great deal about him."  She gave Audrey a pointed look.  "Even some small things other might think forgotten."

For a moment Audrey's heart froze over, but then she nodded slowly.  Still, she could not meet Julia in the eye.

"I'm coming too," Relena said suddenly, appearing on the other side of her, behind Terese.  "I just heard what happened from Lady Une."  She seemed to be in control of her face, carefully hiding the fear and worry that lurked in her eyes.  "We will all go together.  I am sure we will find Heero along the way.  Heero will rectify this."

Julia cocked an eyebrow at her.  "You certainly do have an uncanny faith in your young man."  She smiled.  "Though I suppose a gun or two would be useful."

Relena tightened her lips and nodded.   Unlike Julia, she also wore pants, but more of the traveling sort, long and durable with a white ribbed tank top.  She had pulled her hair out of her face by two strands of braids tied in the back and carried a dark denim coat in her left hand.  It actually looked like Heero's coat.   "Where do we start looking?" Relena asked. 

"The tower," Julia murmured.  "Don't worry.  I know where it is, though I fear what we may find there."

"I've already gotten us a plane," Relena said grimly.  She looked at Terese with a smile.  Slinging her coat around her waist, she stepped forward and took the girls hands in hers.  "Audrey is right, Terese.  Stay strong."

Terese nodded, returning the smile, and dashed tears from her eyes.  "I wish I could go with you, but I…"

"No," Julia said with a flippant gesture. "You must remain.  I would not have Audrey come if not for her peculiar relation to Gardiner."

Audrey dropped her eyes.  Relena gave her an odd look.  "Which is?"

Julia began walking, pulling Relena with her by the elbow.  Relena's eyes widened.  Julia hustled her along without a backward glance.  "A matter of little concern other then how it may aid Damion.  Think of it that way, Audrey," she added, casting her voice behind her.

Audrey lifted her chin and followed them, catching them at the bend in the hallway.  Like Relena, she was unafraid to walk into a war zone, but that didn't mean she was not afraid of what she would find.

Terese walked the other way, setting her shoulders.  Audrey hoped she would not find what she feared, but most of her prayers were for Damion, because whatever had happened to the others before, he was the one in peril now.

*****

A rough-shod boot kicked him solidly in the ribs with enough force to move him.  "Wake up."

Damion gasped, his eyes snapping open.  Instinctively, he moved his arms to block a second blow as he tried to stand up and move away from whatever had assaulted him.  Somehow he was caught or entangled and fell to the floor.  Grounded, his senses spun back to levels of consciousness, his eyes and ears pulling information about his situation in from all around him.  He couldn't stand because his feet were tied up with wire, like metal cable cords. So were his hands.  He pulled at them and felt resistance.  He was shackled to a wall. 

The scent of dirt and damp stone filled his nose and he lifted his head, blinking his eyes to try and get a sense of his surroundings.  There was dim lighting coming from somewhere, but all he could see in the room was rock.   The floor, the walls, the ceiling were all made of stone, like a dungeon beneath a castle.  There was a metal door in the corner, gray like the walls, with no handle or window or mechanism that he could see.  It was a large room, too large for just one person.

But there were others, five altogether from what he could tell.  One stood in front of him with three men behind, their hands clasped behind their backs.  

The man in front of him was barely visible in the gloom of the room, but Damion could make out that he was tall and slender with broad shoulders and darkened skin.  Even with that skin color his hair was red, or a reddish brown, though it was difficult to make out color in the darkness.  Come to think of it, he could only tell the color because he had noticed it before. 

And then memory returned. 

Gardiner.

Gunshots.  

He couldn't strangle the cry that came from his throat.  He bent his head over his knees, clutching it in his hands and squeezing his eyes shut.  "_Manny!" he yelled, almost unaware of doing so.  Images flashed through his head; Manny's face being blown open by a single bullet, such a small thing, yet able to tear through a man's temple and rip his face apart.  He smothered the visions and choked down the emotions that felt something like nausea.  Surely he wasn't really killed.  There would be medics that would come to the scene and it was amazing what surgeons could reconstruct these days.  He would pay anything.  All the gold in his vault, all the jewels he owned…_

He was kicked again, a boot jabbing into his side with a steel-enforced toe.  The pain distracted him for a moment and he absorbed it like a sponge absorbed water, trying to flush out the memories that seemed only half-real to him.  With the pain he crashed back into reality, transported to the present in a heartbeat.  "Shut up and stay still," the man beside him grunted.  "Gardiner has words for you."  He opened his eyes and swallowed.  He was in someone else's power, a place he had never been before.

"Don't talk unless I ask you questions," Gardiner said.

Damion concentrated on breathing and tracing what he could make out of the lines of Gardiner's face.  He remembered when Manny fell, what he had done.  He could still feel the bones cracking under his hands, could still hear that sickening popping sound.  He had taken a life with one blow.  He had never done anything like that before.  And he didn't care.  Looking at Gardiner, he thought he could do it again.  But it would never be enough.  Not for Manny.  The death of everyone in the world would not equal his life.  

_God, please don't let him really be dead… He didn't want to think about it.  His eyes felt hot, but he didn't release any tears, not even the darkness of this room.  His limbs shook. He knew what a bullet in the head would do. He had seen the blood pooling on the floor, spreading out from a corpse.  He had stepped in it._

He forced himself to ask the most obvious question.  "Why am I here?"  

Gardiner smiled and thin, wry smile.  "It's something I've always wanted," he said, and said it like he had acquired a new toy or a pet.  Damion swallowed, letting his mind run over Gardiner's words and actions, trying to get some handle on his personality.   He was obviously brilliant, if in a strange, disconnected way, and if he was crazy, he was very much in control of what he was doing.  Damion wasn't sure he was crazy at all, or at least not in the medical sense.  His humanity was obviously undermined, but his eyes glittered with perfect awareness.

"What happened to the people who were with me?" he asked, but he already knew the answer.

"There was no need to send any messengers," Gardiner told him in a deep, plain-spoken voice, as if that was the only reason not to commit a massacre. "I informed your Council of Lords myself.  Why?  Did you really care about any of them?  They were all just your servants as I understand it." He shrugged.  "You could always hire new ones.  One thing I've learned is that when you are powerful, you never run out of people."

Damion choked, closing his eyes and trying to bury those words and the images that went with them.  They hurt too deeply and he couldn't tell if Gardiner was being serious or if he was mocking him.  He was the prince.  Could he have said or done anything differently to save anyone?  He had the power to order them to do anything.  What should he have said? What should he have done?  He had told them not to fight.  He was afraid they would all be killed if they opened fire in such a small confined space.  But now everyone was dead anyway.  And Gardiner thought he didn't care?  He _knew most of those men.  He was responsible for them._

"You did have quite the tantrum when Geoffrey shot that boy," Gardiner said in a cool, bating manner.  Damion's head snapped up in sudden fury.  "I'm sorry you killed Geoffrey.  Who was he to you, the boy I mean?"

"My personal servant," he replied through gritted teeth, and shook with the need to stab Gardiner in the face.  "Don't you talk about him," he growled, and wished he had not.

Gardiner's eyebrows rose in mild surprise.  "Oh? Why not?  If you're mad because he's dead, I didn't kill him. Geoffrey did.  I really don't see why you would be so upset over a servant anyway."

"I loved him," he choked out, and overcome by sudden grief, couldn't say more. 

Gardiner laughed.  "Oh, you did?  I didn't know you bent that way.  Poor Audrey Veron!  I almost feel sorry for her."

"No," Damion said, outraged that he was being mocked this way.  He loved Manny. He didn't think Gardiner would understand friendship, not what he and Manny had had.   But to talk like that…!  He knew that Gardiner was only trying to incite him, and it was working, but he couldn't stop feeling pain, and grief and anger.  It wasn't what he had said, but the way he said it, to imply something like that just to make him angry, to insinuate that his only reason for his grief was… his love for Manny was so much deeper than that.  "He was my friend," his hissed, and couldn't stop angry tears from welling up in his eyes, though he didn't let them fall.  Almost thankfully, the rest of Gardiner's words distracted him.  "What do you know about Audrey?"

Gardiner's expression was lost in shadow.  "Oh, I know a great deal, but you seem upset, so we will discuss her another time.  I'm sorry your servant is dead.  I didn't know he meant so much to you."

Again, Damion couldn't tell if he was being mocked, but he wanted to spit in Gardiner's face regardless.  

Gardiner smiled at Damion and abruptly changed topics.  "So you are a prince." 

He felt nothing at that, only a dull coldness, and empty feeling he couldn't explain. "Is that the reason you hate me so much?"  Enough people had before him.

"I hate you for being you," Gardiner said ambiguously.  Even saying such things he carried himself with poise.  Whoever he had been, he had confidence and dignity now, as well as money by the look of his clothes.  "I hate people like you who are given everything and then worshipped for it.  You've never worked a day in your life and you never appreciate what you've got.  Do you know where I come from?" He laughed.  "Well, that hardly matters.  Let me tell you why you're here."  Gardiner lit a cigarette, the fire from his lighter illuminating the room and himself clearly for several moments.  Slowly, he inhaled and released the smoke from his mouth, his eyes catching Damion's as he smiled a sickly cold smile.  "I used to see you when I was a kid, you know.  I'll bet you didn't know that, but it's true.  I used to steal food from the palace kitchens and I would see you quite often.  You were always dressed up, and almost always in company. You even wore that little circlet sometimes.   You always smiled and were smiled at and everyone loved you.  You never saw me, though.  Your eyes slid right over me like I wasn't even there."  Gardiner's lips twitched and he tapped his cigarette almost negligently. "I've gone to great lengths to fuck you up, so have a care.  It wouldn't disappoint me to just shoot you and be done with it, but that's not really what I want.  Still, I will resort to that if you misbehave.  In the meantime, it's my intention to break you."

Damion didn't say anything.  He couldn't make sense of any of that.  "You hate me because I've had a good life?"  

"I suppose so," Gardiner said, and added with a mocking twist, "if you're simpleminded.  Are you going to cry about it?"

"When I get out of here," Damion said with a glower.  "I will kill you."

Gardiner didn't react in any unusual manner. All he did was turn complacently to the man standing over him. "Don't let him sleep."

"Sir?"

Gardiner shrugged.  "Do whatever you have to do, but keep him awake.  We will continue our conversation later." 

Damion felt his breath catch in his throat, but he steeled himself.  He glanced at the man beside him, and was alarmed to see him smiling almost in anticipation.

Gardiner looked amused by his alarm, but he held out a restraining hand to his henchman.  "Don't permanently injure him yet.  I have to think on that before I decide what I want to do."  He smiled at Damion.  "You think about it too, Damion," he said, and hearing himself addressed so casually made Damion feel decidedly ill.  He was terrified and didn't want to admit it.

Without a backward glance, Gardiner strode out of the room, leaving Damion with his unnamed guard.  The other three men, who had remained silent the entire time, followed Gardiner out.  Damion knew there was only one guard with him because he wasn't a threat.   Tied up as he was, like a dog on a leash or a horse tethered to a fence, a child could handle him.  But his guard wasn't a child.  It was a man who seemed to enjoy hurting people, especially people who could not fight back and could not escape.  Heart beating, he struggled in his bonds, hoping to find some weakness in the wires, but he could scarcely move his wrists.  For a brief moment, light flooded the room, a thick band of yellow light from the far corner where that panel was.  Then the door closed and darkness consumed everything.  

Damion felt hot breath near his face as his abuser knelt near him. It was an effort not to pull away.  Abruptly, a rough hand clamped over his head, thick fingers digging into his scalp. He gasped in pain, feeling those fingers gouge into a tender spot on the back of his head.  The pain was so great he jerked, but he clenched his jaw to keep himself from crying out.  "Did you hear that, princeling?" his guard said in a voice laded with threat.  "I hope you fall asleep."  Damion swallowed, biting his tongue, his chest heaving.  The man released him and rose, his booted feet barely missing crushing his fingers.   Damion drew his tied hands into his lap and leaned against the wall, staring straight ahead of him into the darkness and trying not to feel as tired as was.  

He tried to think what Gardiner would do with him in the end.  Perhaps he was to be tortured and returned home a broken rag.  Perhaps he was to be made an example of in front of his mob, shot incidentally on a stage where there were television crews to record it for future generations.  Then Taravren would be deprived of a ruler.  Did Gardiner think that would cause the government to collapse?  The crown would go to one of Damion's younger cousins, though the oldest was only thirteen.  But the Council Lords would rule until then.  Maybe Gardiner had a contact on the inside?  Someone who wanted to gain control of Taravren?  Damion didn't think so.  He knew all the Lords personally. He didn't like all of them, but he couldn't think of a single man or woman whose position would improve by that.  Perhaps if he wasn't killed he would be ransomed?  God, he hoped not.  The Council Lords would pay almost anything…or would they?  They would want him back, but would it be shaming to pay a terrorist to have their prince returned like a child?  Perhaps it would be better to sacrifice him for the dignity of the country.  Or would they look worse for abandoning him?  Unless the kidnapping, ransom and exchange were all kept secret, he couldn't see how he could ever go home the same way he left.  But would Gardiner keep it secret or go public with his prize?  Depending on what he really wanted, it could go either way.

His mind tried to puzzle it out, to seek some sort of hope in this madness.  Damion wasn't sure what hurt worse, his body or his mind, so much was going through his head.  Manny…  He was determined not to break.  Slowly, his eyes closed.  

Something smacked him in the face and he started awake.  "Stop!" he hissed angrily.  "I'm awake."  His assertion didn't seem to matter.  He was kneed in the back. "What…?"  Swallowing his cries, he tried to block the following blows with hands tied in front of him, but to no avail.  He was hit until the ground came up to meet his face, his head ringing from the steady rain of kicks and punches across his side and chest and back that left him gasping, his face pressed to the floor.

"Be quiet and stay awake or I will do worse," his guard muttered.

Even from where he lay, he felt like laughing.  He was a prince.  He was a… 

He wouldn't be a baby.  He'd been weak all his life.  Gardiner was right about that. He was wealthy and spoiled and he got everything he ever wanted.  For God sakes, his biggest concern in the last few months was wondering _when a girl he loved would come to return the feeling, when he __knew she had to marry him.  All because he wanted her to enjoy sex with him.  How trivial.  Was that how it had been?  He couldn't remember.  Never mind that seeing her or holding her would greatly empower him.  He tried to see her, to imagine the way her dark hair hung about her pale face and the depth of her eyes, the way he felt near her.  He was glad she was strong.  He wouldn't worry about her worrying about him.  He was more concerned for his mother and for the stability of Taravren and… he knew he was only evading the truth that he was most terrified for himself.   But he wouldn't cry about it._

Manny.  Manny he would cry for, if he was really… his thought fled the idea, unable to process it in this place, though he told himself he was dead.  Still, he hoped he would return home and see him, be welcomed by him, and by Audrey, sweet wife, and Terese....  He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the reality of his situation.  Terese.  Oh, God.  Manny's family.  He fought back tears.  Yes, he would grieve for Manny, but not here.  Not in this place.  If he ever saw home again…  He closed his eyes.

"What did I tell you about sleeping?" his guard said in a tone wicked with amusement, and the blade of a knife slashed painfully across his arm.  The blood that welled up from the cut absolutely horrified him.  "Gardiner is not going to be lenient," the man over him leered.   "If there's bad news, you will pay for it."  The man laughed when Damion didn't answer.  He was afraid to speak, and he couldn't stop shaking. "One of these nights," the man said, "I will take pleasure in cutting out those pretty eyes of yours.  You won't look much like a Prince then, will you?" It sounded like a promise.

***** 

Darkness has descended over the plain by the time Heero, Duo, Trowa and Quatre hijacked a desert jeep and drove out to the tower where Sally told them Damion had been located.  Wufei had elected to stay behind.  It was unavoidable really.  He had a duty to the Preventors to see the mission through the battle that would overtake him by morning if not before.  Heero considered his part in the area finished.  He wanted peace, but more than that he wanted Gardiner dead or confined.  The others were silent about his choice, not clearly understanding how he had come to the conclusion that Damion was Gardiner's target.

On the way there they received the news through the long-distance radio Trowa had with the Preventor station in the area.  

"Oh my God," Duo said when Sally relayed the message.   Gardiner had contacted Preventor Headquarters and the Taravren Council with the news that Prince Damion Ravineere was in his custody.  "Heero, how did you know?"

He kept both hands on the wheel and his eyes on the road, driving at a neck-breaking speed.  They sped past friend and foe alike, ignoring all salutation or raised weapons.  There were massive people gathering, but they drove through and around them relatively easily as the groups were small.  He didn't say anything when he heard about Damion.  He had already guessed it.  He was only relieved Gardiner hadn't killed him on the spot.  That would buy them some time, if Damion was worth saving by the time they got there.  Who knew what this madman would do?

"We've known that Gardiner is from Taravren and that he's been inciting a mob against monarchy," Heero told Duo.

"Well, sure," Duo said, "but that's not any real indication."

"When you were stranded in the field, you couldn't get through to Preventor Headquarters or anywhere else but you could get through to Taravren," Heero added.

Duo paused.  "Yeah, so?"

"Well why is that?" Heero said.  All of his emotions were buried deep.  He couldn't let them interfere right now.  "It doesn't make sense unless somebody was blocking all of your transmissions except that one."

"You mean that Gardiner wanted Duo to communicate with Taravren?" Quatre guessed from the back, leaning forward with his hand curled around Heero's seat.

"Maybe not Duo exactly.  Probably anybody would have trouble."

"But why keep the Taravren line clear?" Quatre said. "To what purpose?"

"To get Damion to go out to the field," Trowa interceded.  He was sitting in the back with Quatre, looking out the side of the jeep with his arms and legs crossed.  "How many times would you be able to hear people tell you how terrible a situation is before you felt you had to do something about it?"

"I hope this isn't my fault," Duo said, looking worried. "I wasn't asking Damion to go anywhere."

"No," Heero said.  "But it wouldn't surprise me if there were people getting through to Taravren all the time. Damion was pretty secretive about it when we were there, though everybody knew he was planning something.  I would imagine he received a lot of distress calls.  And you know how sensitive Damion is sometimes."

Duo didn't say anything for a long moment.  Abruptly he looked ahead and noticed the black mar on the edge of the horizon. "Hey.  Is that it?"

"Yeah," Heero said, eyeing the watch tower as they drew closer and closer.  He sped up the jeep, racing and bumping over the plain. 

"We're too late, you know," Trowa said.

"I know," Heero replied.  "But maybe we can figure out where Gardiner went from here."

"At the very least we'll be able to follow his tracks," Quatre said.  "The Maguanac taught me a lot about tracking in territory like this.  It might take a little time, but we'll find him."

Heero didn't mention that they might not have time.  He hoped to rescue Damion before it was too late to do so, but he wouldn't make promises to himself.  If he failed in this…

He stopped the jeep near the entrance to the tower, but before he did he already knew he would regret ever coming here.  The sky darkened past twilight and the stars poked out of the gloom.  The moon shone like a spotlight, gleaming down on the surface of the ground and the stones of the tower.

There were bodies everywhere.

"Shit," Duo said as Heero turned off the ignition.  

They all climbed out of the jeep, hands fingering their weapons.  Stepping around the bodies of the guards slumped in front of the door, they entered with some difficulty. Once inside, the scent of blood and flesh assailed their nostrils, but wrapping black scarves around their faces they managed to continue, weapons ready in every hand.  Quatre looked tearful as they stepped over bodies and Heero tried not to look at faces.  He might know some of these guys, or might have known them once.

"Stairs," Trowa whispered, and they followed his lead up a staircase that led to the very top of the tower.  On the way they checked every room, more often than not finding more bodies. "Thorough, weren't they?" Trowa muttered.

On the top floor there were the most dead, and by the look of it, a mixture of Damion's guards and Gardiner's army.  Those still alive must have gathered here for a final stand to protect the prince, to no avail, or so it seemed.   There were no bodies lumped in front of the door. People had passed through it.

Heero led the way, pushing open the door to the look-out room softly.  His eyes swept the carnage within and he swallowed heavily, trying not to feel sick.  There were other people besides soldiers in here, servants and foreign delegates, people who had nothing to do with…

He snatched the black scarf from his face, yanking it down to his neck and gaping in complete disbelief.  "Oh my God," he said.  

Duo came to stand beside him, his eyes sweeping over the line of people by the window, all of them shot once of twice in the chest, their bodies collapsed on one another in something like a line of dominoes.  But there were a few bodies out of place. One was a man by the wall near the door, a guy Heero vaguely recognized as an officer in Damion's guard.  One man on the floor was a stranger, his neck cleanly broken.  Beside him…

Duo retreated, retching once in the corner, collapsing to his knees.  "God," he said.  "I haven't done that since… Oh hell."  He got to his feet again, leaning his head against the wall.  "Shit.  Fuck.  I liked him."

"What is it?" Trowa said quietly, Quatre coming up with him.

Quatre was the first to say it with a small, trembling voice.  "Is that Manny?"  He looked away, regaining his composure with effort.

"It was," Heero said.

In all the battles, in all the fighting, he had never really lost someone he knew.  He never took the opportunity to get to know anyone who fought.  Manny wasn't even a soldier.  He was a servant who had spent his whole life serving someone else without complaint or expectation of recognition.  Heero didn't even really know him all that well really.  He was just a person who had just always been there, had made his presence felt, and wouldn't anymore.  Quietly, Heero knelt beside the body, trying to avoid looking at the parts that no longer looked human.  Taking off his jacket, he draped over what was left of Manny's face and lifted his hands over his chest.  A corpse's arms felt like weights, lifeless, bloodless.  He had never touched a dead body before.  He had always let the dead bury the dead.   For a moment he just knelt there on both knees, unsure what else to do. The last time he had seen Manny alive was at his wedding.  He had bought the ring he had given to Relena.  He had fitted him for a tux.  He had helped Zechs attend the ceremony.

"Damion," Duo breathed, still looking a little pale.  "It'll be like losing a brother."

Heero didn't answer, but he thought it would be more like losing a twin.

"What do we do now?" Quatre asked.  "We still need to find Damion if he's still alive."

"Yeah," Heero agreed.  He touched the edge of his jacket once and then rose, feeling it hard to leave this building as it was.  "These bodies need to be removed, though.  Their families need to be informed and…"

"I'll do it," Trowa said.  "Will you help me, Quatre?"

"Sure," Quatre said quietly. "We'll contact Sally and start looking for identification." He looked a little sickly saying it, but someone had to do it.  

"Duo, will you come with me to find Damion?" Heero asked, staring at nothing.

"Yeah," Duo said.  "Of course I will.  

Abruptly there was a commotion outside.  Duo rose and moved toward the window.  "Ah, man.  We were followed."

"How many?" Heero asked. 

"A few trucks it looks like," the braided pilot said, turning.  "What do you want to do?"

Heero blinked and turned to Trowa.  "Relay a message to Taravren about what happened here, Trowa.  At least we can leave a record.  The rest of us will try to take them out before they can take us."

"There's a plane too," Duo said as he looked up into the night sky.  "It looks like it's going to land somewhere close."

"A plane?" Quatre questioned.  "They sent a _plane after us?"_

"We'll deal with them as we can," Heero said, and began reloading bullets into the barrel of his gun.  "I just hope we have enough ammunition."

Review!


	22. A Mistake

Temper the Soul

Chapter 22

By zapenstap

"What do you mean she's gone?" Zechs practically shouted. He struggled to get out of bed, wincing at the pain such an effort took.

"Stay still," Noin ordered, putting a hand on his chest to hold him down, annoyed by his outburst. "Yes, she's gone. She left a note, ordered a plane flown in and took off with Audrey Veron and that Julia Bureun woman." 

Zechs leaned back against the headboard and scowled. 

"Trowa just called in," Noin continued. "Apparently Prince Damion has been kidnapped by Gardiner. He came at him with a small army almost two hundred strong and obliterated his guard and everyone else in the tower. Trowa said there's no indication of any other survivors than the prince himself. Apparently Gardiner contacted the Council earlier today, but who knows how long he's had him."

"Relena knew about this already then," Zechs muttered. "And left without telling a soul." He scowled. "It's just like her, thinking with her heart and not her head. What does she think she can do against an army of rabid rabble rousers fully armed and out for blood?"

"I don't know," Noin said truthfully, "but there's nothing we can do about it now. Why don't you try to relax? I'll see if the Council Lords have made any decisions on what to do about the situation."

He agreed only grudgingly. Zechs had been an absolute nightmare to be around since he had been injured. He was a proud man and hated feeling useless and in need of assistance from other people. Noin understood, but she wished he would let go of his pride and take it easy. He would never recover otherwise.

Leaving him to find his composure alone, Noin strode down the hall with her fists clenched at her sides. The palace was in a flurry of commotion. Whispers traveled faster than footsteps. Apparently the Council Lords had decided to let the news out rather than risk letting Gardiner announce it. The rumors she heard in passing were loaded with disbelief, fear, anger and grief. The regulars of the palace staff seemed especially quiet and Noin was not entirely sure why. A few of them, she learned, had gone home for the day, perhaps longer. She figured they had lost friends and family in the massacre that followed Prince Damion's abduction and were allowed to take a leave of absence on account of emotional stress. Trowa had said the carnage was total. No one was left alive but he prince himself.

The throne room was where she was headed. In the time that she had been here she had only seen it once. Since Prince Damion was still only Regent, he did not use it and it was generally reserved for ceremony and special business anyway. At the moment, the Council Lords were gathered there to discuss the situation. 

She was admitted to the room only with a lot of haggling. The Council Lords turned to look at her as one.

"Is anything being done?" Noin asked, aware of their scrutiny and their disapproval of her boldness in coming to face them alone. "I understand your prince's fiancé has left the palace with Miss Relena and flown into a battlefield."

"She really isn't anything to us without him," a woman with a cool face told her sadly but simply. "Though we fear for her safety. Right now we are trying to stabilize the country and prepare a press release. The prince's safety, I'm afraid, takes priority over the girls'. This matter must be handled delicately. Although we thank you for your concern, Taravren must handle this."

"Alice, please have more respect for Captain Noin. She has done the world a great service in the past."

It was then that Noin noticed that one of the joint thrones on the stand above the polished floor was occupied. Noin flushed, feeling rude that she had only then recognized Queen Ravineere, the wife of Damion's late father. The Council Lords moved aside as the Queen raised her hand. Noin bowed, right hand to her left shoulder, left leg extended. "Your majesty, I apologize for my rudeness."

"Miss Lucrezia Noin," the Queen began, rising and stepping down the red carpeted steps to the floor below. The train of her multi-skirt gown brushing the floor. Stopping before the stairs, she crossed her hands in front of her stomach, interlacing white-gloved fingers. "I understand your concern for Miss Relena Darilan as well as my son and I assure you we are doing everything we can."

For a woman who had lost her husband and her only son in a matter of months, not to mention servants and guardsmen by the dozens, she was remarkably composed, though there was a strain about her eyes.

Noin bowed her head and straightened. "Your majesty," she implored, "I am concerned, I will admit. Please, if I can offer any assistance…"

She was cut off abruptly as shriek split the air, followed by an intense wail and the slamming of a door. Everyone jumped, heads turning in startlement.

Queen Ravineere's head snapped up in recognition, her eyes softening suddenly in reaction to whatever had caused that frightful cry. She swept passed the Council Lords like a bird flying over water, her feet hardly seeming to touch the ground. Perhaps it was customary and perhaps only curiosity, but Noin and many of the Council Lords followed her as she strode out the double doors of the throne room.

When Noin stepped into the waiting hallway, she stopped with the others.

The Queen of Taravren was kneeling on the ground, her dress splayed out like an ocean of gold and glitter around her body. Collapsed in her arms and seemingly shrunken in size was Terese, shaking and sobbing as the Queen smoothed her hair and whispered softly into her ear. The Queen's eyes shimmered with tears, though it might have been the lighting, and she held the crumpled form of the staff manager like a child, securely, yet delicately. Terese had her face pressed into the folds of the Queen's dress, her fingers clutching her arms like claws. If she occasionally babbled, Noin could make out none of what she said between her body-racking sobs.

Manny really was gone, then. The solider in her said it was time to bury the dead and care for the living. She looked up to the ceiling, studying the lights in the chandelier. She prayed Damion would be rescued, that Gardiner would be dealt justice, and that Relena would return safely home, and Heero too. She believed in both of them, but she also knew how impulsive they could be, and current torrent of her mind clouded her hope with dark shadows.

The Queen of Taravren lifted her head, certainly tear-stained, yet her expression was resolute even as she still held the quaking and sobbing Terese in her lap. The room hushed merely as a result of her set expression. "In the absence of my husband and my son I assume full ruling authority over Taravren," she said, addressing the council with eyes like polished stones. "What must be done to bring my son safely home?"

*****

"There's four trucks," Duo said grimly, peering through the window on the ground floor. The four gundam pilots had decided to move to a location where it would be easier to escape if they needed to leave the building. Besides, no one wanted to stay upstairs. "They're parking almost right in front of us. It's kind of hard to see in the dark, but everyone looks armed. They know we're in here."

"Should we hold our position here or would we be better off outside?" Trowa questioned. 

"Here," Heero said from his position underneath the window. He had his back to the wall, his boot pressed against the back of a filing cabinet. 

"How many people are there, Duo?" Quatre asked.

"Uh…" Duo craned his head a bit, looking down below at an odd angle. "Sixteen from what I can see."

"Not counting the plane," Trowa muttered. He had a pile of guns beside him, ripped off from the dead guards in the room upstairs and also from the bodies on the stairs. Gardiner's people had already stripped the building of anything valuable, including ammunition, but somehow Trowa managed to find a few things that were overlooked. He had also found a few explosives in storage. Heero had been thinking how those might come in handy.

"Not counting the plane," Duo agreed in a whisper. 

Heero leaned his head against the wall and kept breathing, letting his thoughts sink inside his skull and his emotions skitter along the outside of his consciousness, separated from his reactions as if by a plastic bubble. He would pull at them if he needed to, any anger or fear that could be used as fuel for the fight, but for the most part he needed to stay calm and limit his distractions.

If that plane _was_ full of soldiers and they were allowed to surround the tower no one would leave this building alive. It was a small passenger plane by the looks of it, just about what would be reasonable to send after them. It was preparing to land even now. He estimated a distance between them and the plane of only about a hundred meters if the pilot has any skill. The terrain out here was as flat as a board.

_I wish I had my gundam._

Strange. He had never thought he would need it again. The gundams were simply too big and too heavy to be useful against anything except large craft and other mobile suits, but there was nothing like thousands of tons of steel to make a man feel pretty damn invincible. He cut through that plane pretty easily with Zero or Epyon or Wing, but left without a suit he would have to improvise. He was trained for close combat too, but it was hardly the same thing. There were no mobile suits these days. Those times were over.

_I never wanted to hurt anyone ever again._

But some things couldn't be helped. It was a part of himself that was difficult to describe, the soldier in him that had taken so many lives so incidentally. Sometimes the fighting didn't feel like killing, sometimes it did. It depended on the moment and how much he was thinking and feeling at the time.

_Relena._

What thoughts managed to invade his brain were always of her when the danger was hottest. When he met her he discovered something he didn't know existed; a creature beautiful and courageous, deep in thought and strong in action, a girl that for some reason was attracted to him. He found her baffling, alluring, intoxicating and always had, at least since he let himself start thinking of her as a person anyway. She had _begun_ that fatal change in the way he saw the world, her and the other pilots, his first comrades, his first friends.

How many people in the world existed like them, like her? He didn't think there could be too many. A lot of people had ideas about the way things should be, what people should act like, what they should believe in, but few had the real courage to breathe life into those ideas. The entire world owed something to Relena Peacecraft. He owed her. He still couldn't believe she was really his sometimes. Often, it just didn't make sense. Even when he became aware of her flaws and doubts and inconsistencies the general being of her shone like a star. Did he shine as brightly in her eye? He wanted it to be true.

He wished with his all his might that he could see her again. And he knew that if he wanted to, he had better fight like he didn't expect to draw breath in the next minute. That was always how he won his battles.

Without a second thought, he snatched the detonation devices from Trowa's pile and was on his feet before he allowed himself to consider the risk.

"Heero!" Quatre hissed. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to make for that plane."

"But…" Quatre began, gaping.

"I'll detonate it before any more soldiers can emerge. We _will_ rescue Damion and we _will_ all make it home."

"We're going to be under fire any minute!" Duo shouted after him.

"Don't worry," Heero heard Trowa say grimly. "He can do it."

*****

"Put this on," Julia said in the cabin, handing Relena a cloak. Relena accepted it gratefully, throwing the material over her shoulders, but she kept her eyes out the window, watching the ground draw closer as the plane prepared to land from the window seat. The night made it hard to make out much and she knew it must be dangerous to try and land even a small plane in such lighting, but she knew the pilot could handle it.

Relena turned her head to look across the aisle at Audrey, though she kept her fingers on the glass. She had also not spoken a word since they left Taravren. She always seemed to be looking at nothing, and Relena could only imagine the fears she felt for Damion, or whatever else was going through her head. Audrey had shown no qualms in coming here, had not fluttered an eyelash at Relena's assessment that the territory they would be in was the outskirts of a battlefield. 

Lady Une had told Relena that battle had already been engaged. There was fierce fighting in Camadrie, just as they had predicted. The soldiers from the outside had joined the gathering fragments on the inside and were engaged in warfare against Gardiner's mob. From the initial shots, she did not know how the situation fared, but she knew scores of people were killing each other, fighting, strangely enough, for peace. 

And Heero was out there somewhere. She feared for him even as she feared for herself, which meant she did so with the reservation that certain things had to be done, and recognized that it took a certain caliber of strength to do them. If Heero or herself ended up dying out here… she did not want to pursue the thought, but if it happened, she knew she could carry herself and go on. So could he. 

She closed her eyes, feeling the coolness of the glass under her fingertips.

_Heero._

It was like it had been during the war. She knew he was out there. She could almost feel him. How she wanted to see his face… It was different now then it had been. His ring glittered on her finger, her body knew his intimately, her heart was enamored of his, but the feeling of intensity and the fortitude with which she bore it was the same. She narrowed her eyes as she stared down at the field, mentally strengthening herself for the task at hand.

Heero didn't need her now. Damion did. Her husband could take care of himself. She had shown him it was worth the effort, for his sake as well as hers, and she had to trust he knew it. She did not begrudge his sense of duty and honor's place over her love. She did not expect complete idolatry of her. In her heart, she knew that that understanding was one of the things that would make their union work. She understood that some things required his attention more than his love of her. It did not _diminish_ his love of her; it was merely set above it. It strengthened his character and made him a thing more lovable. Oh, some girls might moan and complain that their men never paid them enough attention, that they took love for granted and threw it to the wayside for things like religion and duty and pride, but Relena was more sensible. Heero loved her and she knew that. She did not expect him to worship her. And if he sacrificed his honor, his duty or his beliefs in order to please her, she would not love him as much as she did. They would both do what they had to do and walk in life side by side, companions, supporters, lovers, friends, but they would still have to live their own lives.

_Take care of yourself, Heero, and come back to me. I will be waiting for you when this is done. _

She took a deep breath and tried not to calculate how near she was to him. Her duty was to Damion now. She didn't want to think what might be happening to him.

The plane hit the ground, jolting a little from the impact. Mechanically, Relena clasped the brooch of her cloak over her chest and made a mental checklist of everything that she would need to carry. 

"Are those trucks?" Audrey murmured.

Relena looked into the gloom and felt her heart sink. They were trucks all right, four trucks parked outside the tower. She thought she could see a bit of another too. There were men swarming around the base of the tower, armed to the teeth. 

"Soldiers," Julia said.

"Ours or his?" Audrey demanded, meaning Gardiner.

"Looks like his," Julia said.

"God," Relena said, "what do we do? Take off again?"

"No," Julia murmured with absolute confidence and almost a negligent dismissal. "They don't know who we are. They have no reason to kill us arbitrarily. Besides, they're occupied. Fighting." 

Relena turned again to the window. It was true. The men were hidden behind their trucks like they were trenches, weapons in hand. She thought she could see them shooting at the Tower. 

"Does Damion still have men alive in there?" Audrey questioned. "They could tell us where he is…"

"I'm hoping someone can," Julia said.

The plan was slowing to a stop, drawing closer and closer to the tower, and the gunfire. The captain spoke to them through the intercom, relaying the news that there was fighting within paces of them and did they not want to take of again?

"No!" Relena said. "We will stop the plane. We have to try…"

"What's that?" Audrey exclaimed. "There's about three armed men coming toward us. They're hailing us."

"Respond that we come in peace and wish to exchange words," Julia told the captain, standing and smoothing her dress. Relena did not understand why she chose to enter a battleground wearing a gown that looked as if it were spun from gold. She could hardly be expected to move much in the thing, though she _was_ lovely. "Come, ladies. We will negotiate with them."

"Are you insane?" Audrey demanded in tones calmer than her words, her hands curved over the armrests of her cabin seat. "I thought I would have to worry about Relena, not you."

"I know what I am doing," Julia replied, and she sounded it. 

The plane had stopped. Collecting their things, the girls stood up. Relena raised her chin high, settling herself to do battle. Whatever Julia had in mind, it was going to take some courage, and she was not so blind as to not realize that this may very well be the end of her. Those men just outside their door were armed, whatever their salutations.

As she passed the last window toward the door that was slowly opening to let them step outside, she caught sight of a lone figure as he burst out of the tower amidst the gunfire and hurled toward them, a firing arm held steadily in both hands. Two men followed him, running to catch him and not taking the time to shoot. With three men ahead of him and two behind, it did not look like he had much of a chance. She watched in horrid fascination, trying to make him out more clearly. And then it came to her, the way he moved, and finally his face.

"Oh my god," she gasped in sudden recognition. "Heero!"

He had what looked like detonators connected to his belt and men with guns at his back.

Julia had already stepped off the plane, emerging into the night outside like a goddess descended from the stars in that dress. The three men who had reached the plane first stopped and stared, lowering their weapons. Julia swept off the plane gracefully, bending her head to exchange words with them, the moonlight glancing off her golden hair in such away that her head seemed to blaze with light.

Relena pushed past Audrey, stumbling out into the night and ducking under Julia's arm. "Heero! Look out!"

*****

Heero shouldered his way out of the tower, opening fire on the men leaping out of the trucks before they could turn their heads to see him. Several went down in those first few seconds.

"Go, Heero!" Duo shouted at him. "We'll cover you."

Trusting them, he ran, keeping close to the edge of the tower and moving opposite of the way of the trucks, dashing around the tower the long way. Shots rang out behind him. The other gundam pilots had moved to their vantage points beneath the window and by the door, drawing enemy fire. Heero didn't look back. As he came around again toward the plain, he cut out into the open and dashed toward the plane with all his might. He was glad it was dark.

Still, he knew he was being followed when he reached the halfway mark, but he did not stop to look back or slow down. If he kept at neck-breaking speeds they wouldn't be able to aim accurately enough to waste the ammunition shooting at him. He needed to get closer to the plane and he had a good head start.

There were three more soldiers ahead of him, seemingly unaware of his approach. They had trotted up close to the plane after hailing it and were waiting by the side door. Heero cursed. Any second soldiers might flood out of that door and then it would be too late. Reaching for his hip, he snatched a grenade from his belt loop and armed the device. It was wired to a minute before detonation, but there was nothing like holding a bomb in your hand to encourage your muscles to work harder.

The door to the plane opened and he almost stopped in his tracks. At first, all he saw was a girl's slippered foot step gracefully down the first step, layers of glittering gold material rippling over the soft shoe as that foot landed on the metal step of the plane's stairs. The material seemed to blend into the night, reflecting the yellow light of the moon. His eyes followed it up, lingering over the triangular cut of the dress at the abdomen, the bodice that circled her upper torso almost like a low-cut breastplate and the gloved fingers that curled around the edge of the doorway of the plane. From there, Julia Bureun's face hardly seemed shocking. Bright blonde hair was pulled up and twisted behind her head, but little ringlets fell over her face and behind her neck, the remaining curls falling over one shoulder. He wasn't sure if she noticed him or not; her eyes were focused on the three men that stood by the stairs, staring up at her in almost an adoring fashion. 

"Heero! Look out!" a familiar voice shouted.

It was like music to his brain, but in clanging discord to the chaos around him.

He stopped, amazed, bewildered and inspired as Relena suddenly came into view, her hair whipping around her face from the wind expulsed by the engines of the plane. Her eyes were wide and more green than blue, staring at him in absolute fear. His mind stopped functioning for a brief moment. His wife. Relena. In the battlefield. 

_"I'll kill you."_

Flashbacks broke like waves over his mind. Marshall Noventa's plane, the pacifists… the mistake he had made.

The detonator beeped in his hand.

He remembered it suddenly, his head jerking to catch Relena's hair again as she twisted in the wind. With something like seconds to go, he hurled the armed device behind him and ran with all his might. He noticed the blinding flash of white light and fire in the night first. The explosion itself knocked him off his feet and he flew several feet through the air, hitting and rolling across the plain. Relena's alarmed cry followed him, snapping around his ears with the wind that whistled past his head. The sharp bite of the rocks that dug into his flesh as he hit the ground and rolled were nothing compared to the initial impact. When he finally came to a stop he struggled in the dust and rose slowly, wheezing, half-amazed that none of his bones were broken.

Once in a crouch, Heero looked briefly behind him, noting that the explosion had cleanly killed the two men who had been following him. The grenade had apparently exploded between him and them, but it had been going in their direction. Luckily, their death was not overly gruesome, or at least not under the cover of darkness. It seemed they had died more from the impact of the ground and the force of the bomb than the explosion itself. Thankfully. He would not want Relena to see men blown apart, torn limb from limb. He didn't want to see it himself.

"Heero! Look out!"

His head snapped up.

The three men who had been astounded and enraptured by the bizarre appearance of someone like Julia had certainly noticed him now. Regaining their senses, they shouted, raising their weapons. Julia slipped back inside, her eyes flashing as she withdrew into the confines of the plane. He heard her saying something to Relena, but whatever it was, his wife seemed deaf to it, shaking her off. The soldiers took aim of Heero.

"Stop!" Relena cried, ducking and surging forward. Like a shadow she was between Heero and his assailants in a second, her hands darting inside the coat of the soldier closest to her, withdrawing a gun from his vest. Heero watched in horrid fascination as she cocked the hammer and lifted the gun with both hands, her elbows appropriately level with the ground. 

"Relena! No!" he shouted, springing to life suddenly. He lifted his own gun hurriedly and fired almost without aiming, the shock of the fire in the darkness momentarily blinding him. When his vision cleared, the man closest to Relena went down with a bullet through the forehead. He had to kill them all before she did, before he could be killed in front of her eyes! Wild in his urgency, he shot again, taking down the next man almost by luck. "Don't, Relena!" he shouted over the noise. The last man had him in his sights before he was able to take aim a third time.

The gun in Relena's pale slender fingers kicked back as she fired it. Her features seemed to crunch as her finger pulled the trigger, her head turning to the side and her eyes squeezing shut with the force of the blast. As the body of the third soldier pitched forward in the dust at her feet, Heero threw his gun behind him and ran toward his wife at full speed. Slowly, Relena opened her eyes, her mouth falling open. The gun tumbled out of her nerveless hands, tripping over her fingers and hitting the ground like a dead weight. She took a step backward, but when she began to sway and wobble she locked her knees, her eyes staring straight ahead. In a moment he was there to catch her, wrapping his arms about her torso and pulling her close to his body, tucking her head under his chin. Her arms hung limply as he hugged her, but slowly she raised her hands to his shoulders, her fingers clutching at his skin like claws. Her eyes were open as she rested her chin against his shoulder, starring at nothing. She didn't say anything at all. Her face was shadowed by the veil of night.

"Relena," he breathed into her ear in disbelief. He had been too slow, too careless. "You've shot a man."

He felt her stir against him and was surprised to see her tilt her head to look in his face and smile at him, still clutching his arms. "I know," she said, and there was a light shimmer in her eyes despite her smile. He almost couldn't believe her composure, and yet, he knew her. She was shocked by what she had done, but she was sensible and she was strong. It was no different than any soldier would do. She would move on. They would all move on. "I killed him," she said, her expression growing stern with acceptance. "Don't be afraid for me, Heero. It's always something I've been capable of doing. I'll be okay. I'm just glad you're safe. That's what I wanted." 

Hesitantly he let go of Relena's back and lifted her face with the palms of his hands, studying her eyes. "What are you doing here?" he whispered, and his tone took on a bit of biting hiss. "I don't like you here. I don't want you here. You could have been killed. You're a fool. Do you hear me?" His thumbs caressed her cheeks as he regarded the shimmer in her eyes. "I can't work worrying about you," he said gently, quietly. "Go back to Taravren. When I find Damion…"

Her hands covered his wrists as she stared back at him, her eyes clearing. "No, Heero. I'm coming with you." As she said it, she pulled her head out of his hands and stared at him defiantly. 

He studied her face for a moment, angry and yet... Slowly, he let his arms fall to his sides. She hung onto his wrists as he did so, bowing her head. He knew there was no point in arguing, but he did not like it.

"I'm sorry," she said with equal gentleness and equal resolution, tears in her eyes as she lifted her face to look him in the eyes again. "I love you, Heero. I know you just don't want to see me hurt, but I have to do this. I came here for Damion, but I'm so glad I found you. I knew I would."

"She was quite sure," Julia murmured, stepping out of the plane again. Audrey appeared silently beside her, dressed in white from head to toe, a sleeveless blouse and a pair of pants made seemingly from silk. Still, beside Julia, she almost looked ordinary.

"You heard about Damion?" he said to all of them.

"Gardiner informed everyone," Julia said. "Earlier today. But I estimate that Damion has been in his captivity for longer. Gardiner didn't contact us immediately."

Heero nodded. From the time they had watched that patrol leave… it could be almost two days. What condition would Damion be in after only two days? Or was that a dreadfully long time to be in Gardiner's control? He didn't want to think about it. He was a little afraid to.

"Heero!"

He turned to see Quatre, Trowa and Duo running toward him. Quatre and Duo were both waving their hands. Smiling at him, Relena slipped her right hand into his left hand, squeezing it lightly. The other pilots reached the stairs of the plane fatigued, heaving in great gulps of air, bending over their knees and smiling with the simple joy of being alive. 

"Miss Relena!" Quatre exclaimed as soon as he caught his breath. "It's so nice to see you. And Miss Audrey! How are you?"

"As well as can be expected, Mr. Winner," Audrey replied. "It is good to see all of you in good health."

"We thought your plane was full of soldiers," Duo laughed, putting his hand behind his head. "Man am I glad we were wrong. Oh," he added with a wide grin. "Wufei called in on the truck. Seems the fighting in Camadrie is going well."

"He's coming our way, Heero," Quatre said. "With over four hundred troops, which he says he can easily spare."

Heero felt his heart soar a little. With that they could definitely rescue Damion. Relena bit her lip, closing her eyes. "How long will it take them to get here?" he asked.

"Six hours or so," Trowa said, crossing his arms. "I know it feels like a long time, but it would be better to go in with some hope of really being able to save Damion Ravineere than without any hope at all. Besides, it's going to take a little time to reload. We can't go after Gardiner without guns.

"We need to know where we're going," Quatre added. "And we need to identify the dead still."

Heero didn't like it, but it seemed they would have to wait a little while. Heero caressed Relena's fingers absently as he stared off into nothing. She didn't object, though.

"We kept one of the enemy alive," Duo said grimly. "It might be in our best interest to question him. I don't think it will take much."

_Hang on, Damion._

"It'll give you and your wife some time to assess the situation," Trowa said, taking in Relena with a little consternation. No doubt he would feel unsettled by her being there. All the guys would. "I take it she's coming with us?"

"Yeah," he said, though he wasn't altogether thrilled with the idea of Relena coming along. Still, she was strong enough.

After a moment of awkward silence, Duo laughed a little shakily. "Very funny," he said. "I didn't know you were capable of jokes, Trowa."

Trowa blinked at him, uncrossing his arms. "It's not a joke Duo. I don't think she would go home even if…"

The braided pilot waved his hands and laughed. "No, not that. I'm acquainted with the princess. I mean the joke you just made, you know." Trowa just looked at him. Duo blinked, sobering up, and pointed his index finger in Trowa's face. "Come on, now, stop messing with me. A joke is a joke, and a cleverly inserted one too, but don't take it too far. It was funnier before."

"I really don't know what you're talking about," Trowa said.

_Your wife._

Heero smiled.

Relena hugged Heero's arm, leaning her head on his shoulder. Duo frowned at them, scratching his forehead. "Okay, guys, come on, I mean it. Stop making fun of me. Heero and Relena didn't really get married without me…" he peered at them suspiciously. Abruptly, his eyes grew very large, like a child's. "You didn't really did you, Heero?" When Heero didn't answer and Relena's eyes sparkled brighter, he reeled, practically falling over backward. "Are you kidding me!"

Heero blinked. Duo looked positively furious.

For several minutes, Duo gestured expressively without saying anything. His mouth moved, but not a single sound came out. "You! You…you!" was about all he could manage.

" Duo!" Relena pleaded with him. "There wasn't time! I…"

"I'm supposed to be your best man, Heero!" Duo railed, getting up in his face and gripping his shirt as if he wanted to choke him. "ME! What did you do without a best man, huh? Who's going to make sure you don't lose your ring or run out on your girl or…"

"Damion held his ring for him," Relena said, watching the display with something like wonder on her face.

Duo groaned, releasing Heero and banging his fist on the plane instead. "Oh, God! Oh, hell!" he shouted skyward.   
"We need to rescue him just so I can hit him once for good measure. Damion!" He glared at them again. "Hell. I can't _believe_ you would do this to me, Heero." Sighing he turned to Relena. "What are you now, cutie? Mrs Yuy or something? You've got too many frickin' last names. I can't remember them all. Ah man." He stamped the ground, causing clouds of dust to rise into the air. "Great Shinigami, I wanted to see it! Heero and Relena married! Sheesh. I never thought I'd see the day." He looked at them with something like bewilderment. "Why are you just standing there? Why aren't you all _over_ each other? What's wrong with you? God, you two make me sick. You're welcome to each other, really. Hell. I'm going to call Hilde. She's probably worried sick about me. Do you know that? Worried _sick_." He waved a hand and turned away from the lot of them, strolling back toward the truck. "Ah man, I missed Heero's wedding. I can't get over it. Heero got married!"

"Well," Quatre said with a sigh, but he didn't follow up. 

Not overly concerning himself with Duo, Heero wondered how he was going to tell Relena about what happened in the tower without letting her see it. They would be here for some time and he could not keep it from her. There was so much death he did not want her to see, but then, looking at her, he didn't feel too anxious. She stood by his side with her head held high, facing the night with an even expression, her face all the more beautiful for its composure. He relied on that composure. She had killed a man. Perhaps it was something that he should have known was inevitable, and maybe she did too, but it was strange to think about. She did not look or act like someone who had killed a man. But then, he had always felt that she was a soldier at heart…like him. 

"I would like a moment to speak with Audrey," Julia murmured in the intervening silence. "If you would lend us the privacy of the plane."

"Of course," Relena agreed. 

"All right," Heero said, taking her hand again in his own. Her fingers felt so right in his palm. "When you're done, join us outside the Tower," he told Julia. "We'll go over our plans and get some sleep. If Wufei doesn't have a force here by daybreak, we go on without him. I don't want Damion to be in Gardiner's control any longer than absolutely necessary." 

"Neither do I," Julia said coolly.

Audrey didn't say anything, but her expression lingered in Heero's mind even when he turned away. Her face was like a marble mask, cold and pale in the starlight, her personage held erect like a statue on a hilltop. Something about her eyes tugged at him, though, and he knew she was thinking about Damion. Worrying about him…

_She loves him_, Heero realized suddenly. It hadn't been like that when he was left, but it was true now. He prayed Damion was still alive and in relatively good health when they found him.


	23. Abel Gardiner

Temper the Soul

Chapter 23

By zapenstap

Audrey followed Julia into the cabin of the plane while Heero led Relena toward the tower with the other soldiers. Audrey did not want to guess how many bodies there were out there. She was having trouble enough with the dead men outside their plane. She had never seen anyone killed before and it was difficult to process the fact that Relena had shot one of those men.

Perhaps it was not too unbelievable. Relena certainly had what it took to shoot a gun, especially with Heero's life at stake. Love like that would have strange effects on a girl like Relena and those two were certainly in love. The way their eyes met stuck in her mind, his dark blue smoldering meeting her clear blue-green ones, looks that spoke volumes without making a sound. Even their smaller movements, a crook of a finger, a shift in stance, a twist of the neck, seemed to mimic each other. She felt her heart stir when Heero led Relena away with an unconscious hand behind her back, seeming to have forgotten the rest of them, lost in their own little world. It made her remember a feeling of golden warmth that she had forgotten in the last few hours. Though she was thankful they were together again, her fears for Damion had escalated. Of course seeing them happy would remind her of him. Her fears… her fears… she was afraid even to think of them.

"It could take hours for the Preventors to come her and organize," Julia said as soon as they were inside and the walkway was drawn up behind them. She did not sound happy, but neither did she sound angry at anyone in particular.

Audrey sat down. She didn't mean to, but she saw a seat and simply sank into it, breathing a little too hard. Her hands fell into her lap, limp at the wrist, her fingers twisting the wedding ring on her finger. The diamond glittered like a star on her finger, but she tried not to look at it. "I fear I am going to be ill," she said, and even felt a little shaky saying it. "Julia, Abel will not keep Damion alive forever. As soon as he thinks he's frightened us enough, he will do whatever it is he has planned and leave us to pick up the pieces."

Julia only frowned, the ringlets around her face swaying like curled golden ropes as she turned her head. "Which is one reason why I do not think we can afford to waste this time. However, I do not know if it is possible to rescue Damion without the army the gundam pilots are relying on. We may have to rely on it too in the end, but I do not think we can wait. If there is any hope for Damion, it must be in speed. What I know of Gardiner is that he is patient when it suits him, but efficient more often than not. Taravren will be in a tizzy by now. If he means to do something horrible and hasn't already he will soon."

Audrey closed her eyes and tried not to think what that might be. "God," she broke, releasing a few pent-up tears, her fingers crunching the material of her pants. "Isn't it _possible_ he means him no real harm?"

The other woman was silent, pursing her lips in thought, but her eyes were sympathetic and a tad touched with fear. 

"I don't know," Julia said softly. "He said he would burn Camadrie to the ground but that didn't happen. He has said a lot of things really. It is difficult to say what he wants and what he may do. My worst fear is that he doesn't want anything, that he is merely angry. The more Taravren tries to negotiate for their prince, the angrier he might become. Eventually he will react. That is what I am afraid of."

Audrey closed her eyes, shuddering. "What do we do? Wait? God help me, Julia, I can't stand it."

"We go," Julia said, and Audrey raised her head, blinking uncertainly. "I know where Gardiner is now," Julia said grimly. "Those soldiers told me, if not in so many words. A pity they were killed, but I don't really think it would have been wise to spare them either." Julia turned crystal blue eyes into Audrey's face. "I don't know what will happen to us, but I think it might be important that we reach Gardiner before the Preventors do. I think we should try, if you are brave enough."

"Why?" Audrey breathed.

"For Damion," Julia said. "I do not know what sort of state he is in right now, but if it is anything close to what I fear, he may not return to us the same person he was a few days ago, at least not at first. You must trust me on this. It will take him time to recover from this, mentally certainly, and likely physically too, but it can always be worse."

Audrey did not know what Julia thought they could do for Damion now if that was the case, nor how it could be worse if they did not intervene, but she did not ask. She trusted Julia's social instincts by this time, and she could not wait here. She was not afraid of Gardiner. She was afraid that Damion would die before Gardiner could be caught, or that he would die while she waited here. She was not afraid of death herself. She did not think she would be killed anyway, at least not before she saw Damion. If she could be useful even as a distraction, it would not be too little.

"Then let's go," she said quietly. "Order the plane to take off. Ignore the others."

There was no reason to take any of the others with them, not for a mission such as this. Cornering Gardiner with Preventors and guns would either frighten him or enrage him and who knew what would happen to any of the people she loved then? Damion could not afford that. If she wanted to see him again, she would have to put herself in Gardiner's power and trust to luck and her own sense on intuition where he was concerned. She prayed it was enough.

*****

"Whoa!" Duo shouted, twisting around as a hollow blast and a roar echoed over the plains.

Unconsciously, Heero protected Relena's head, tucking her body under his arm and pulling her close up against him. She gasped in surprise.

The sound of engines charging drowned out Duo's following shouts. Halfway to the tower, everyone turned. As soon as it was clear that there was no immediate danger, Relena straightened, though her arms remained around Heero's chest. He didn't mind, though he didn't feel particularly clean or nice to hold after being in the field for so long.

Once facing the way they had come, it was clear what was making such a racket.

"The plane is taking off," Relena said in disbelief.

"With Audrey and Julia," Heero added grimly.

"But…where are they going?" Quatre asked. "And why didn't they tell us?"

"Back to Taravren?" Duo suggested. The plane had turned away from them and was beginning to roll away, gathering speed as it went. It would go to where the ground was flattest and then take off.

"No," Heero said. " They would have told us if they were going somewhere safe. They must be going after Damion. They don't want to wait."

The others turned startled faces at him, eyes wide and mouths agape. 

"But Heero," Relena protested. "How do they know where to go? What can they possibly do when they get there?"

"Julia must know something," he said. "As for what they will do, I would think you would know. What were you going to do if you did not find us here?" he asked her.

"I knew we would find you," she said. "If not…" She shook her head. "I don't know. But I was sure I would find you."

How did he let this girl come to know him so well? Should he be afraid or feel safe knowing she could predict him?

"The question is," Trowa murmured, interrupting his thoughts, "what do we do now?"

"Nothing," Heero said. "We wait for Wufei and the others."

"But Heero…" Quatre protested. "The girls."

"We can't do anything, Quatre," he said somberly. "We have to hope they know what they are doing." He began to turn away, bringing Relena with him. "And really, I wouldn't put anything past that Julia woman. I think she could be an even match for Gardiner in a scuffle if it came down to it. We have to hope they have some sort of plan. We will be a better service to them if we to Damion with some hope of rescuing him. I doubt Gardiner is watching over him alone wherever he is."

Relena bowed her head, but she yielded to his judgement without argument. What Audrey had done was something Relena would have done in a heartbeat if he knew her at all. She must understand there was nothing any of them could really do. They could not catch the plane or track it or cut it off. They might have the equipment in the tower to contact it upstairs, but no one would want to be in that room for so pointless a task.

He needed to tell her.

"Relena," he said, and pulled her close. She gave him a funny look, as if trying to figure out what he was going to say before he said it. Perhaps she could figure that out too. "Relena," he continued, and looking into her questioning eyes, decided just to tell her. "Everyone that was part of Damion's guard and service is dead, including Manny."

For a moment, she looked as if he had hurt her, but then she wrapped her arms about him and said nothing for a long time.

Later, he sat alone with her in the jeep while the others identified the bodies. He would have helped, but he did not want her near the scene and he did not want to leave her alone. She sat in the backseat with him, her feet on the edge of the seat and her knees curled up under her chin. He knew she was thinking about it. After they sat together for awhile in silence, she voiced her desire to bury the dead in a small, but resolute voice. 

"We have to stay here anyway," she whispered, her hands over her knees and her chin buried in the crack between them. He looked at her, feeling the wind prick at the bare skin of his neck and shoulders and blow his hair around every which way. She looked so sad huddled like she was, but her voice was perfectly calm, if tinged with something like sorrow or regret. "I can't bare to think of him lying up there and Damion captive somewhere. When we leave, I don't want to leave him like that. And not just Manny, but all those people." 

"Relena," he said. "I don't want you to see it."

"I won't watch," she promised in a voice he could barely hear. "But I can't just leave him and let him… it… decay." She stopped speaking. The realities made them all feel strange, but he felt she had taken the news rather well: shock and grief, of course, but also immediate acceptance. There had been no denial or anger in her reaction. He supposed she must have considered if before. Everyone in Taravren must know by now.

"Relena," he interjected, "what about his family and Damion and everyone who knew him better than we did?"

Relena didn't look at him, but she replied in somewhat easy tones. "I know Damion would want him to be buried in Taravren, and probably his family and everyone else too, but those bodies won't make it that long in this heat and climate. There will be flies and…" she swallowed and looked away. "I just think it would be better to put him under the ground now." 

He looked at her for a moment. Of course she was right, but it would be a difficult thing to explain to Damion. Maybe in the end it would be better. They could tell him they had buried him and not just left him. And Relena was right. The bodies wouldn't last long enough to bring them to Taravren, not in the condition they were in now. "All right," he said at last. "If we can find…" he didn't want to give names to the specific things involved. Shovels, sheets maybe…? He had never buried a body before. "I'll let the others know," he said. "Wait here?"

She nodded without lifting her chin from her knees.

They both hated the waiting.

*****

Leaning back against the wall with one knee propped up with his hands tied together in his lap, Damion stared into the darkness and tried to occupy his mind in such a way that he would not lose his sanity. The metal cords around his wrists and ankles kept him from moving much, but he had discovered locks on them, tiny locks meant for a tiny key. Nothing he could do loosened them, though he had tried until his wrists bled. He had given up for the time being.

He was not overly surprised when the door opened in the corner, admitting a sheet of yellow light from whatever lay beyond this room, but he squinted and turned his face away, having grown accustomed to the darkness in this cavern. A moment later, the door swung shut and he opened his eyes, blinking away the afterimages.

Strangely, Gardiner had come alone. That had only happened once before, and only for a short time. Damion thought it might have been the only visit where he had not been hit for a wrong answer or a slow response. Gardiner, he came to realize, rarely did any real violence himself. He rarely even commanded violence to be done; he just suggested it or let it happen. Damion was not sure which was worse.

Gardiner carried a lamp in his left hand, which he set down at his feet the minute he was standing before Damion. The lamp gave off a ghoulish gray light that did not hurt his eyes, though Damion was sure that that comfort was not what Gardiner had in mind when choosing that particular lamp. The light was eerie. Perhaps it was meant to frighten him.

"How are you?" Gardiner asked him as he lit one of the cigarettes he usually carried in his pockets with a match. 

The smoke made Damion feel ill. There was no ventilation in this room and he was weak with hunger. He paid little mind to Gardiner's question. The man did not really care how he was feeling or he would not treat him like a leashed dog.

"I've informed your little Council of Lords about you," Gardiner continued smoothly when he didn't answer. "Your… Senate?" He smiled.

Still Damion didn't say anything, though he wondered about the people back home, about his mother and Terese…and Audrey. What would go through their minds at a time like this? He did not generate pity for himself on their behalf, though he would have traded a great deal for a comforting hand at that moment. But pity was not what he wanted or needed. If he had his way, he would ask for nothing but to see them all again. He wanted out of here, but he couldn't let himself dwell on that. 

"Do you want to know how they responded?" Gardiner asked him. He never said such things with much excitement or emotion other than a twinge of amusement. Damion was starting to think that amusement was false, though, or at least a cover for deeper feeling. You did not hate people who merely amused you. 

"Answer me," Gardiner said, and sounded more annoyed than he had a minute ago. "They offered me a great deal to send you home to your mother," Gardiner added. "Real pretty woman for her age too. She seemed worried about you."

Damion didn't answer. Instead he closed his eyes. He was so tired.

"Answer me!"

He flinched, his eyes snapping open, afraid and hating himself for it. "I don't know what you expect me to say," he said quietly. "Of course she would be worried about me. She's my mother."

This time Gardiner didn't answer. For a moment, Damion thought he felt something like resentment or reproach radiating from the man, but when he next spoke his voice was as cool and smooth as ever. "The council offered me a lot of money and land to release you unharmed," he said as he took another puff of smoke from his cigarette, smiling with a lucid-looking grin in the blue-gray light of the lamp. "But I already have plenty of both."

"I thought you were poor," Damion said quietly, feeling nothing. Perhaps it was better, or at least safer, to humor him. 

Gardiner regarded him strangely, tilting his head to one side. "Yeah," he said, sounding surprised that Damion had remembered that. Abruptly his tone had mellowed to something almost normal and conversational. "Yes, I was poor," he said. Damion lifted his head, surprised by the change in the tone. Their eyes locked for a moment and suddenly Gardiner laughed. "I've been starving most of my life, but now I'm a self-made man." He paused. "Do you even know what it _means_ to be poor? To starve every day?"

"Probably not," Damion replied. 

The light from the lamp illuminated Gardiner's face like a ghost's face. His features were perfectly still, even stern. "Do you remember Clara Veron?" he asked in an ominous voice.

Shocked, Damion sat up straighter, suddenly wondering where this conversation was going. "Yeah," he said in the barest whisper. "She grew up with me." _She died in my arms_.

A short girl with dark hair and deep dark eyes, beautiful as a rose; that's what Manny had said. She had been the daughter of a Duke and lived in the palace with him most of her childhood. A very fussy, but sweet little girl until she went away for several years to study with another family. He would always remember the way she followed him around in her puffy dresses, tripping over her shoes and asking so many annoying questions, harassing him and Manny constantly. She had been in love with him all her life, or so she told him after she had been shot. She returned from her time away a completely different person, deceitful, haughty and ambitious. She had tried to coerce him into marrying her two years ago by sparking a rebellion that resulted in more than a few deaths, including her own. She had taken a bullet for him. He had never felt so much regret until that day.

Gardiner smiled. "You were supposed to marry her originally, right?"

His stomach twisted into knots and he swallowed hard, aware of himself and Gardiner and the room very sharply. "Not exactly," he said in a stronger voice than he had used in Gardiner's presence since that first day. "She might have been first choice if I had wanted to marry her when I came of age." He gasped, feeling out of breath. "What are you getting at?"

"Poor girl," Gardiner murmured. "I felt pretty sorry for her. She was always going on and on about you." To Damion's alarm, Gardiner's voice became higher in pitch, a surprisingly good imitation of Clara at her whiniest. "Damion won't even _look_ at me anymore, Abel. He used to be so much nicer to me when we were kids, but even then he was kind of mean. Did you ever know anyone like that? I can't help the way I feel about him." Gardiner abruptly broke off that tone and laughed a little, his voice returning to normal. "Of course I helped her when she came to me with her idea and asked me if I knew where to find weapons."

"You sick bastard!" Damion spat, and sat up straighter against the wall. Gardiner had been one of the arms dealers? Most of them have been caught, but not all. "How did you know her? What did you _do_ to her?"

"Nothing," Gardiner said, tossing his cigarette butt aside. "I met her when I moved back to Taravren after I had made my fortune. She was a real pretty girl and I liked her an awful lot, but I didn't _do_ anything to her." He laughed again, at him, Damion was sure. "She liked me, I think, but she wouldn't let me touch her," he said. "She was saving herself for you and was all very prim and proper about it."

Abruptly, Damion realized Gardiner was furious, and maybe pained too. When he next spoke, all the amusement, all the emotion in general, was completely gone, but Damion could still feel the anger boiling up through Gardiner's eyes.

"You're a real idiot not giving her anything she wanted," Gardiner continued in almost dead tones. "I would have if I were you."

"I didn't love her," Damion said quietly, amazed in spite of himself, his heart beating more quickly in his chest. "I never hated her, but I never felt about her the way she felt about me. What happened with Clara was a mistake. She assumed too much, but I never wanted…"

"Proud bastard. I used to see her when I would see you," Gardiner interrupted, and assumed those amused tones again. "As a kid I mean. She was pretty then too, or I thought so, but she was really beautiful when she came back to Taravren after her time away, stunning I would say. What were you, blind? Didn't try for her as you did Audrey Veron, did you?"

His mouth went dry.

Gardiner smiled again. "See, I don't understand. Audrey is a real frosty girl, hard to get to know, and so _depressing_. Why the hell would you choose to love her over someone so full of intellect and energy like Clara?"

"How do you know Audrey?" he breathed in such a quiet voice he would not have been able to hear himself if not for the echo in the room. Gardiner had mentioned her before, that first day, but he had dismissed it then. Now his heart felt like a frozen stone in his chest.

Gardiner's eyes slid halfway shut, making his smile seem a great mockery of his emotions. "I fucked her a few years ago," he said casually. "I've fucked a lot of girls in my time, but I remember that pretty well. It was planned after all." 

He couldn't breathe or move for fully a minute. "You're lying," he gasped out at last.

"Oh, I assure you that I'm not," Gardiner said quite practically. "She was a pretty good fuck too, though she didn't participate as much as I would have liked. You know how virgins are. Still, she and Clara have a lot of similar features so that's something to her credit. Real nice breasts. Nice skin too. Pale like cream and very smooth…"

"Shut up…" Damion said with a voice that shook with anger. He wanted to smash his face in.

"Her hair's a nice contrast to her skin," Gardiner continued, looking him straight in the eyes. "Especially when she's not wearing any clothes. I sort of remember the way in feels. Silky. Her skin is silky too. Yeah, I think she was more out of it then anything at the time. She might be better now. Think I should try again?"

"Shut _up_!" He jerked against the restraints that shackled him to the wall. Standing about halfway erect, he yanked at his bonds, futilely, the cords digging into the scrapes and cuts already in his wrists. The futility drove him back to the ground more than anything else, but he continued to thrash in fury, kicking and flexing his arms in an attempt to break free off his bindings and lunge at Gardiner's face. God, he was helpless. "I don't believe you," he said at last, gasping for breath, tears in his eyes. His voice shuddered with the tension in his body, almost like a growl. "If you…"

The back of Gardiner's hand caught him against the side of the face and he gasped, opening his eyes. The blow didn't really hurt, but it rung his head like a bell. Wrapping a hand around his throat, Gardiner pushed his head back against the wall. His eyes were terrifying.

"I have a letter from her to you," he said. "It was left on the table in the watchroom of the tower. Do you want to read it?"

He could scarcely breathe much less reply as Gardiner withdrew an envelope from his back pocket and held it before his face. It had been opened. "I already read it myself," Gardiner said with a smile in response to Damion's shock. "I don't know how you did it. I didn't think she was really capable of loving anybody, but with you she at least fakes it really well." He smile grew wider, into almost a grin. "When you're done reading," he said, "I'll tell you more about the night I spent with her. She doesn't seem to remember much of it, but I remember more. I'll tell you all about it in detail." Pushing the letter against his chest, Gardiner released him and stood up, returning to the lamp. He didn't move it a foot closer, but the lighting was just enough. He only watched as Damion read.

Damion held the letter with shaking hands, unable to even hold it properly. Slowly, he managed to withdraw the paper inside, and by the handwriting he knew it really was from her. He had recognized the letter anyway. He had wanted to read it so badly.

_Audrey. Audrey._

Her face, the feel of her hands, the look in her eyes blurred in his head as he forced himself to open that letter and read what she had written. It didn't feel real until he was more than halfway through.

_…I don't remember exactly what happened. We talked. He led me into a room and it happened. I was fading before I was even undressed. I might have protested, but I can't remember. I don't think he considered it rape. If he did, I don't feel less guilty…_

It had been Gardiner. Of all people…

_"It was planned after all."_

The pain in his chest was not from the bruises on his ribs. It was a real effort to choke back tears. His whole body was shaking by the time he finished, his mind clouded with dark shadows. The images were too much. He saw her with him, drunk, bewildered, naked, and every variation of what could have happened enraged him. Did he rape her? Did she consent? Almost all the trials they had gone through were a result of this.

If he ever felt any sympathy for Abel Gardiner, detected even an ounce of humanity in him, it vanished now. All that remained was a dull ache and razor-sharp hatred. He wanted to murder him. When he looked up, the other man must have seen it in his eyes.

"You don't seem to understand the situation," Gardiner said calmly in response to that look.  "Are you angry with me?  Not as angry as I am with you.  I think we could both use a little clarification.  You shouldn't be worrying about her.  It's you that I am going to ruin.  There's been some bad news from the field and I don't like the way you're looking at me.  I think I have been too easy on you."  

Damion's thoughts of Audrey vanished, but he was not sensible enough to feel shame, for his eyes were drawn to the flash of steel that came into Gardiner's hand.  His whole body reacted violently, remembering the feel of kicks and slashes already received from those whose hatred was paltry compared to this man.  And then he remembered what his first guard had told him about his eyes.  Struggling in his chains, he half shouted and half cursed, but he knew that none of it would be to any avail.  Inside him, something began to break down and go wild.

*****

It was dawn by the time Heero heard the sound of engines in the distance. Once all the bodies were identified as well as they could be, they sent a report to Preventor headquarters and tried to get some rest, everyone lying out on the ground by the jeep on the other side of the tower from where they had fought for their lives. Heero did not sleep well. He kept remembering what it had felt like to bury someone. Who would have buried him, if he had died in battle as he wanted all those years ago? He supposed it wouldn't really matter, but it was never something he had considered before. 

Relena slept beside him on the ground by the base of the tower, her hands curled and her head resting in the crook of his arm. He really did not like her out here. And yet, in some ways her presence was comforting. If she had been someone of less strength and experience he would have sent her home whatever she wanted, but he found he couldn't do it. 

After all, she had been in many battles. She had just never fought in one. He wouldn't let her fight now. Once was enough. It wouldn't happen again.

One day soon they would be able to go home and furnish their house. He just kept thinking of that. One day soon.

It was the engines that roused him from his rest. The other woke too, all of them stiff and sore, but better for the few hours of sleep they had gotten.

"Wufei," Duo said with a smile.

"Has to be," Heero said.

"Thank God," Relena said, sitting up with him. "I've been worrying about Damion. I didn't sleep much."

"Me either," Heero said, but he had been trying to forget about Damion. He hated having missions he had to wait to complete. But now that Relena said it, he could scarcely think of anything else. "I hope we're not too late."

*****

"Is that it?" Audrey asked, looking out the window. Her heart was racing.

"I think so," Julia murmured. "We should be there soon."

Audrey closed her eyes. _Please, God, let him be alive and well. _

She prayed for his safety. She didn't know what she would do when she saw Gardiner after all this time, but it hardly mattered. She was here for Damion Ravineere, who she hoped would marry her if she could bring him home. She could only hope he was the same man he had been. If he was not, or his feelings had changed...

It didn't matter now. She loved him.

_I love him._


	24. Dark

Temper the Soul

Chapter 24

By zapenstap

Audrey waited with Julia on a paved walkway between a rose garden and a stretch of green lawn, staring at the country estate house that stood imposingly before them. The estates were what Julia called "barter land" because it belonged to a nobleman who had no need for it, but kept it as an asset to be used in making deals. The house and the land about was abandoned, or had been until recently. Whoever the estates belonged to in actuality, Abel Gardiner occupied the house now. Julia said that according to her information, the estate did not belong to Gardiner himself, though the house may have been given to him at some point in the past. It hardly mattered really. Audrey was not interested in the politics of real estate. 

The house was small for an estate but enormous and elegant for an ordinary house. In another setting it might have looked lonesome, for it had no neighbors for miles, but in this setting it looked like fortress. It was a fortress. Audrey had never seen so many armed men crawling around such a premise as this. At any other time she might have been afraid, but all she could think about now was that Damion was in there somewhere. If Julia and Audrey had had any thoughts about trying to sneak into the establishment and rescue him, they were soon forgotten. The moment the plane landed they were met by armed soldiers and escorted to this place on the walkway while Gardiner was informed of their presence.

Eight men with guns surrounded them now. Two had been sent into the house as soon as the girls were contained. From those that remained, they were not talked to or touched. Audrey hardly noticed them. She wasn't thinking about her own safety. She hardly even perceived herself in any danger. Two women travelling alone in silk clothes and curled hair could not expect to be treated like a mortal threat. Audrey knew she was not threatening. She and Julia were more of a curiosity. Besides, in reality Audrey did not come here to threaten Gardiner. If anything she came to plead.

Ignoring the armed men, Audrey watched her companion out of the corner of her eye. Julia's thoughts were perfectly veiled behind her smooth face and sparkling eyes, but a small, amused smile pulled at the corner of her lips. It was a flirtatious smile, the sort a man would look at and not help but wonder what she found so funny, especially in a situation like this. And men were looking. Audrey did not care what Julia was smiling about and did not wonder if she was attempting a deception or not. Both their lives were forfeit.

Eventually, one of the men that went in came back out of the house and walked toward them. Audrey waited, trying to keep her mind from guessing what he might say. When he reached the group he had a short conversation with one of their guardsmen and then turned to them with a devilish smile. 

"Gardiner welcomes you in," he said, and bowed to them, extending an arm to the door.

Audrey had to school her features to stillness, though her heart raced in her chest. She turned her head to look at Julia, but Julia did not look at her; the other woman's eyes were focused on their escort. He was watching her too, looking puzzled and curious and incomprehensibly pleased. She smiled at him, looking up at his face from beneath her eyelashes. Then, abruptly and very coolly, Julia turned her gaze straight ahead, lifted her dress off the road and began walking. The man who had been eyeing her looked briefly annoyed before turning his attention on Audrey. 

Before he could speak, Audrey brushed passed him, feeling as if a barrier had been broken between herself and Damion. She clenched her fists at her sides, trying to calm herself, to breathe properly, and not to let her emotions rule her. Either Julia slowed down or Audrey sped up, but somehow Audrey ended up in the front of the procession, the guards trotting along behind to keep up with her, grinning at one another. She did not know or care what any of them thought. Perhaps they considered two women showing up at the door to be a part of some sort of prostitution service, but she only wanted to see Damion. She wouldn't let herself think that he was not otherwise than alive and well and waiting for her.

The men guarding the front door let them pass with blank expressions, though their eyes followed Audrey and Julia questioningly. Once inside, she gave practically no notice to the white tiles of the foyer floor, the gold-framed pictures in the walls, the blue tapestries, or the polished wood furniture. What she noticed were a great many directions she could take: a spiral staircase, an archway to the left, or one of several doors both on the ground floor and in the landing above. Burying her frustration, she stopped, breast heaving, eyes scanning the room.

One of the guards seized her arm in a tight grip. She hardly paid any attention, hoping only to be led where she wanted to go, until another man grabbed Julia and made as if to pull her away.

"Unhand me," Julia said testily. To perhaps everyone's surprise, the man let go of her arm with something like an apology. Other than lowering her arm, Julia did nothing. It was like she had expected it and so there was nothing to do.

"Pardon me," the man muttered. "But Gardiner will only suffer to see the dark-haired woman."

Julia blinked long, curled lashes at him and smiled a secret smile. "I would not dare to disobey him," she murmured. Audrey merely felt alarmed, but not enough to give her pause. "A word with my friend?" Julia requested, but it sounded like a command.

The guards exchanged glances and then surprisingly backed up a few paces, leaving Julia a little private space with Audrey.

"Julia," Audrey began quickly, dropping her voice.

"Don't worry about me," Julia told her quickly with a soft smile and hawk-like gleam in her eye. "Concentrate on finding Damion. I don't care if you can rescue him or not, but find him and stay with him whatever happens."

"I fear there is little we can do except buy time."

"It will have to be enough." Julia smiled at her. "You're strong," she said. "Your fears are for him and I admire that. If we do not meet again, know that you have my respect and endorsement." With that, she lowered her voice and spoke beneath hooded eyes. "Don't worry about Gardiner or any of these fools who follow him. Just find Damion any way you can. I will try to buy us some time."

"How?" Audrey whispered, but she wasn't allowed to receive an answer. The guards had grown impatient after a few moments and roughly grabbed Audrey again about the forearm. She yanked her arm back, glaring, and they released her as they did Julia, but the two women were immediately separated. Julia was prodded upstairs by four guards, but by the way she headed them with her dress lifted delicately in one hand and her head lifted high, they might have been mistaken for servants. There was no time to worry what might become of her.

"Come on," her guard said roughly in her ear. "He's waiting." Audrey was led through the archway on the left and then through a small hallway and to a door. She lifted her head and straightened her back as one of her guards knocked on the wood and announced the presence of the "dark-haired woman."

"Come in," a voice replied in smooth tones. Audrey immediately recognized it and felt suddenly uneasy. But even with that fear, a new strength suffused her. Taking a breath, she tilted her chin up as the doors were pushed open and she was allowed to walk inside. 

Standing alone in a study by a wooden desk and a bookshelf, he was everything she remembered. With her arms at her sides and her back straight and stiff as the thin trunk of a young birch tree, she traced his form with her eyes and not a single emotion in her breast. He had the same brown eyes, tanned skin and reddish-brown hair that she remembered. But more clearly she recalled his beautiful hands with the long, slender fingers that were now wrapped around a heavy goblet of wine. His dark eyes glittered as he looked at her, and lifting his other hand, he put out a cigarette into an ash try and waved at the guard negligently. 

"Leave us," he said curtly. The guards backed out and the door swung shut, leaving her alone with Abel Gardiner.

*****

Relena discreetly held Heero's hand, slipping her palm in his and interlacing their fingers against the seat as they sat in the backseat of the truck. Wufei was driving with Duo in the front seat. Trowa and Quatre were in another truck with Lief and a few others who had been with Wufei in Camadrie. Lief's brother had been seriously injured in the fighting and had to be practically tied down to keep him from coming to rescue his prince from Gardiner. Wufei said the reaction among the Taravren soldiers at the news of Damion's capture had inspired entire units and may have had something to do with how quickly they had overwhelmed Gardiner's mob forces and retaken the city.

"You should have seen it, Heero," Wufei told them once they got out on the road. "I've always believed what Treize said about how a fighting man's spirit is perhaps the most beautiful thing to behold, but I think he might have been wrong about why. It's not the fighting itself. We've all seen some magnificent battles and some ghastly ones. When I was with Mariemaia I was fighting for the fight when I should have been fighting for the peace or not at all. Treize believed in winning and then--because of us--he believed in losing, but I don't think that determines beauty. I think the difference has to do with what you are fighting _for_. Heero, you should have seen it. When word came to us that Damion Ravineere was taken by Gardiner, our Taravren soldiers went absolutely wild. Even the ones that were wounded or dead exhausted got to their feet, picked up their guns and fought harder than I've ever seen men fight. We captured the city three hours after we found out. I've never seen anything like it. The mob broke and fled before us like nothing you've ever seen. After the fighting was done I expected everyone to be tired and want to rest, I had to be selective about who would come on this mission. Everyone wanted to. _Everyone_. If I brought too many it would take too long, but even so there's six hundred of us all together, mostly Taravrens but not all."

"I wish _I_ could have seen it," Duo said wistfully, leaning back against his seat with her arms behind his head. "I haven't seen any real fighting in a long, long time. It's not that I miss the battles, but that feeling you're describing…" He stopped speaking as if he had hit on a topic simply too personal to talk about.

Relena leaned her head against Heero's shoulder and squeezed his hand for strength, trying to imagine the scene Wufei described. She smiled to herself. Peace wasn't something that was given to you. You had to fight for it. But she supposed there were other things that were also worth fighting for, and to Taravren soldiers who had sworn fealty to their government and their Prince in the same oath, this was one of them. To them, Damion was like a piece of their country under siege. Only because he was a human being as well as a prince and a symbol, it was more personal than that. In a way, it helped to think of it that way. If she starting thinking how well she really knew him, that he was a friend, it was almost too painful to bear.

"I just hope we're not too late," was all Heero said. It was all he had been saying for awhile. She prayed it wasn't because he thought they might be and wanted to cushion the blow. She couldn't imagine what would happen if they found Damion dead. She didn't know if she could bear it. 

Relena closed her eyes and then opened them, still leaning against her husband and reminding herself that whatever Heero Yuy set out to do would get done one way or another. 

*****

"Well," Abel said smoothly, and extended the goblet of wine to her. "If it isn't Miss Audrey Veron. It's been a long time, my lady."

"Has it?" she said absently, and took the wine without even thinking about it. Ahe merely held the glass, staring at him over the rim in some consternation. He knew her. He spoke to her like they were old friends. Perhaps if she handled this carefully, if she humored the part of him that _must_ have gone mad… "Abel, I'm here about Damion. I…"

"I know why you're here," he said pleasantly, though he had cut her off. He smiled to take away the rudeness and glanced at her sideways. "Do you really love him?"

"Abel…" she began.

"Of course you do," he said, waving his hand. "I can't blame you, I suppose. He _is_ a Prince. And fairly good-looking too, or he _was_. Do you think sleeping with him would ever be as good as what you and I had?"

Her tongue clove to the roof of her mouth. Sensations lost in memory evaded her mind as she tried to recall what it had been like. She was afraid seeing him again in this situation would be terrifying, but it wasn't. She knew him too, and even though she was afraid, it was not of him. "I don't remember that night," she said, and forced herself to look him in the face. "I was…"

He shrugged, blinking. "Drunk. I was pretty fuzzy too, actually. I think if you hadn't drowned yourself in that wine, you would have had a better time." The look he gave her then might have been meant to be comforting, but instead it chilled her. "I was gentle with you, if you wanted to know," he said. 

She didn't remember, but he was making her feel sick. Why were they talking about this? "Where is Damion?" she demanded, and hated herself for sounding so desperate. "Have you done something to him?"

He set his goblet down with something like annoyance. "You're pathetic," he said. "I thought you would be the last woman in the world to react like this over a man." She opened her mouth, but found she had nothing to say. She had never been regarded with such scorn. "Don't tell me it's because he loves you," Abel continued. "I've watched far too many girls become absolutely revolting creatures so that some man that will bother to pay attention to them, even the smarter ones who know men bother with women just for the sex. It's deplorable." He glared at her with something like anger. "I thought you were a little more independent. A woman who needs a man to make her feel special is a disease. You know, it's funny how many girls become sluts without admitting it, especially those who then turn about and degrade other girls for more honest behavior."

"Abel, I'm not here to discuss social problems and gender differences. What have you done with Damion? Where is he?"

"You were an ice queen," he told her as if she hadn't spoken at all. "You were rude and cold and it took me half the night to soften you up. Do you even remember the things you said to me?"

They talked about her mother. Of course she had repeated the things that she had learned growing up. She answered him with a hollow voice. "That men are dogs who treat their playtime like it is important work and reduce the work they should put into their families into play."

He smiled and lifted his goblet again. "See, you should have stuck with that. It's true. I've never gone after a girl with any other attitude myself. Sex and women are fun and games to me. Even men who agree to marry are still playing games, you know. They just happen to like a particular piece better than others, like idiots who have to be the car in monopoly."

"You think Damion is playing games by marrying me?"

"Sure. He's more of an idiot because he expects love and romance too. Don't look so surprised. I have my informants. I've been waiting for this for a long time."

She tried to say something, but he cut her off, continuing along his original track. "It's a game he's playing with you, my dear, a fantasy if he wants to play too, and you are both fools. I hate people who have money and power and can afford to waste their attention on something so obviously trivial."

"Damion does not see this as a game," she forced in, narrowing her eyes. "He's forced to marry me, or if not me, some other girl of my status. He doesn't have a choice."

Of all things, he laughed at her. "Oh please. Ruling is a game too. A beneficial marriage is a like a nice solid card in your hand that makes winning the game easier. Rulers get paid to gamble with other people's lives and then they reap the benefits. They don't _care_. Do you honestly think he has any idea what he's doing?"

"Yes," she said, and couldn't stop the tears from forming in her eyes. All the hours Damion had spent in his study pouring over papers and proposals were never for himself and he did not pretend like they were that amusing. He spent so much time learning about his staff, his work, the people, trying to understand and satisfy everyone's expectations. He was brought up to do the work and he had powers he used more discerningly then even she had expected. The upper class were taught their responsibilities, but like any people they could choose how to utilize their privileges. Damion was taught well and learned well. He was an honest man with responsible parents. He had an entire court who both loved him and loved to be ruled by him. He understood what he was doing. He was a real prince.

Gardiner clearly didn't understand. She didn't think Abel saw Damion as a person at all. He was like an icon, a symbol of everything he hated, everything about his life that was miserable growing up. Maybe it made sense to blame the government and in doing so the prince who headed it, but it was uncharitable. Gardiner's misfortunes were not Damion's fault. She was terrified that Abel considered them to be. 

"What have you done to him?" she whispered. 

"He was still alive when I left him," Abel replied, taking a sip of wine. Then he smiled at her in the most sickening way. "You keep asking about him. Are you so desperate? Is he that good of a lover?"

"I haven't slept with Damion," she said angrily. Her stomach trembled with anxiety and she could scarcely breath normally. "Why do you care about that? I love him, but I haven't shared his bed. That's not why I am here. What have you done to him? Abel, he's a man, a human being. Please…"

He cut her off. "Oh, you haven't? Really? I wasn't sure." His smile looked strangely triumphant. "God, that's too perfect. I get to fuck you and he doesn't. It was all worth it then. Shit. What were you waiting for? Or is he the one with no balls?"

She refused to react.

"If he's not available, do you want to have a second go with me while you are here?" he asked, and laughed again at the expression on her face. "Oh come on, please. I really think you might have enjoyed it the first time. First times are always a little bit awkward and you were completely sloshed, but like I told him, you have a really great body and it was a real breakthrough getting you into bed at all. I honestly think you would have dismissed men completely if it hadn't been for me. You know, _he_ probably thinks our night together is the root of all his problems with you, but you were the same self-possessed bitch before you met me as I'm sure you still are now."

Her hand tightened around her wine goblet. God, that was true. 

His smile looked more vicious than amused. "So don't blame me if your love life is a failure and you're sexually frustrated. There's a nice girl hiding in you somewhere. She came out when you were so drunk you could hardly see straight, but I'll bet your prince is too soft in the heart to possess you. A girl like you isn't going to melt at kind words. I tried that. You didn't open up until I told you you were cold bitch and started touching you. First you protested and then you decided you liked it, big surprise. But that takes a deft touch, and your prince is too virginal to know what the hell he's doing."

Tears sprang up in her eyes. "Don't pretend anything you did that night was for my benefit," she said hoarsely.

"_We_ did," he corrected. "And I'm not. I fucked you on purpose to get at him. I'm just letting you know that you wanted it at the time and maybe it's not such a bad thing. I wasn't trying to hurt you. I don't hurt girls."

"I can't believe you would say that," she said. "You hurt me. I know I'm self-possessed. I know I'm terrified of love, but you made it worse. Damion should have had the right you stole. He should have been the one to show me it wasn't so bad. And you're wrong. I did respond to kind words. Damion never forced anything on me. He was patient and he cared and that's what I needed. Even if I was ready, he would have waited for the wedding because that was the honorable thing for him to…"

"You're sickening," he spat. For a moment he looked at her in silence. "Well, are you ready now?" he demanded. He looked positively furious. And this time his anger was really directed at her.

"I love him," she said clearly.

"Shit," he said, shaking his head. When he looked up, his eyes smoldered with hate. At that murderous look, she wanted to shrink away, but all she did was stiffen her knees. He smiled menacingly at her. "Well," he said, never moving his eyes, "It doesn't matter anyway. I'm done with him."

She choked back the fear and panic that boiled in her gut that remark. "What do you mean?" she whispered. His lips twitched, amused by her panic. "You said he was alive. Abel, you said he was alive!" She shouldn't have taken that tone with him. 

He walked toward her as she backed away with a gasp, watching him with wide eyes. She wanted to tell him to stop, but she couldn't speak. Her wine goblet fell from her hand, crashing against the floor and soaking the carpet with a red stain. He ignored it, pressing her backward. When her shoulder blades hit the wall, he smiled at her. She flinched and turned her head away as he reached toward her and fingered the tresses of her dark hair. Pressed with her back up against the wall, her heart beating a mile a minute. 

"I didn't kill him," Abel whispered, and touched her face with one hand, his fingers sliding down her tear-stained cheeks to her lips. "I just gouged out his eyes. Come on, now, don't cry. I know they were very pretty eyes, but something had to be done. He was too high, see? I couldn't pull him down. He wouldn't go."

She sobbed, wilting against the door, trying to shrink away. "No." She saw Damion as she always remembered him, smiling at her with those brilliant gray eyes, the first thing she had noticed when they met. And then she saw him with two, bloody, gaping holes in his head where those eyes had been and broke down. "_No_."

"I did," he said. "I was mad and it seemed fitting."

"Tell me you're lying. Oh God. Please tell me you're lying." Damion's eyes were like the morning, gray as the day at dawn. This couldn't be real. 

Abel touched her face, trying to get her to look at him, but she couldn't open her eyes. "Stop crying," he said, almost like he was talking to a child. "Audrey. Audrey, stop." She choked back her pain and forced herself to look at him. "I'll tell you what," Abel murmured. "I'll let you see him. How's that?" He withdrew something from his pocket and held it before her eyes. She looked at it through her tears, staring at a small silver key held between his thumb and forefinger. "See?" he said. "This is my apology for that night. I never meant to hurt you. You can let him loose and I'll leave you two alone for a few hours." The kindness in his face faded briefly. "But in the morning," he said. "I'll have to kill him. You understand that, right? I can't just let him go."

She covered her mouth with her hand to keep herself from being sick, hot tears leaking from her eyes. Violently, she shook her head, but she couldn't respond.

"Don't cry," he said. "Do you want to see him? Are you ready to go?"

She nodded and took the key and straightened, searching for the reserves of her strength. If Damion was blind or maimed could she still love him? Her heart was already sold, but she couldn't breathe. The images were too horrifying. Still, she remembered what Julia said about just finding him and not worrying about anything else. Right now, she didn't think she had the strength to do anything else.

Gardiner opened the door for her and led her out of the room and back into the hall. Like a gentleman, he kept a hand hovering behind her back, guiding her without touching her. The combination of his manner and the things he had done threw her. She did not understand how he could be gentle one minute and cold and vicious the next. She wondered what his mind was like, what his life had been like to turn him into such a monster of a man. He could have been brilliant. 

He led her silently to the front of the house and then through the doors in the back. Ignoring the guards, he guided her to a staircase that led down into a pit of blackness.

"Where is he?" she breathed as she walked down the staircase in front of him, searching the walls for a railing. There was none.

"There's an underground cellar beneath this house," Abel murmured behind her head. "Watch your step. There's a light, but I'm not going to turn it on."

They descended into darkness. At the bottom, he took her hand and pulled her to the right. She let him and followed, able to see absolutely nothing and needing his hand to help her. At last he stopped and tugged on her wrist until she stepped forward. Abruptly, she felt her hand on a cold metal door and halted. Then she heard the jingle of keys.

"There's nothing else in there," Abel told her. "So don't worry about tripping. I'll come for both of you in an hour or two." She had the impression he was smiling. "Even in the circumstances, I hope you have a good time. And don't fear for your life, my lady. I'll be sending you back to Taravren to carry the message. That way I won't have to send his head to make them believe that their prince is not immortal."

She closed her eyes as he opened the door, but she managed to walk in from darkness to darkness without being prodded, not thinking of the morning or any other time but now. She had the feeling if she had not arrived today Abel would not have waited at all. The door slammed shut the moment she was through.

There was no light and no sound in that cavern. She had no idea how big of a space she was in, or what was in there, but she kept the little key clenched tightly in her fist. She was afraid to speak in the darkness and the silence, so she listened, trying to hear over the sound of her own heart beating. 

There was a sound of someone moving, like a body shifting some distance away, and she moved toward it, breathing in through her mouth, feeling her heart race with fear. She couldn't speak even when she was right there, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from another human being sitting on the ground near her. But she couldn't see anything. Carefully, she knelt on the stone floor, the cold piercing the thin silk of her white pants, and reached out to find a body where she heard one.

"I'm awake," a voice cut sharply through the blackness, and her heart leapt up in her throat. She wasn't sure whether to be more happy or heartsick to hear Damion's voice in a place like this. She had never heard so beautiful a sound as his voice, though. It washed over her like cool water, even with the fear she detected from it. When had she last heard Damion speak? When had she last touched him? The night of Heero and Relena's hurried wedding, so long ago. 

"Who are you?" the voice spoke again, and she wanted to find his mouth so that she might kiss it. 

"Damion," she whispered, afraid the way her own voice echoed in this blackness. "It's Audrey. Are you all right?" The hand not holding the key made contact with what she thought was his shoulder. She almost couldn't believe he was really there.

He tensed, freezing up under her soft touch. "Audrey?" he breathed.

"Yes. It's me. Damion…." Tears drowned out the coherence in her voice so she shut her mouth. Carefully she traced her fingers up his neck until she found his face. Gently, she felt it, trying to map out the shape of it in the blackness. She was afraid to go anywhere near his eyes.

He sat perfectly still under her hands, but it was definitely his face. "Audrey?" he said again, and his voice resonated with disbelief. "What are you doing here?" That last question held so many emotions she couldn't sort them out. He might be wondering anything.

"Damion, your eyes. I…" She choked, unable to ask or speak about it. 

"My eyes?" he whispered half in fear, and then realization seemed to come into his voice, and with it a deadly strength. "God, he told you he…?  They're fine. Audrey, my eyes are fine." 

She choked, disbelieving.

He laughed, a hollow, frightened laugh that caused her stomach to turn. "He had a knife. He said he would remove them, but he didn't. He just…" he trailed off, as if afraid of going further, perhaps for her sake. "He just wanted to frighten me.  He's trying to break me." He sounded angry, not so much about what Gardiner had almost done but that it was clear he had been very frightened, perhaps enough to satisfy Gardiner without blood.

Her whole being flooded with a feeling of relief. "I don't care as long as you're all right," she said. Swallowing, she touched his face again, searching for his eyes. He had closed them and she felt his eyelashes under his fingers, the eyelids closed. Softly, she let her hands fall away again and sat back on her knees.

There a silence between them for a moment. She didn't know what to say. She could hardly understand that this was Damion, not in a place like this. She wanted to hold him and she was afraid to.

"Is it true?" he asked quietly when her hands left him. "About you and him?"

Her body felt numb, but she responded with all the truth and conviction and strength that remained within her. "It's true," she whispered, and bit her lip. He didn't say anything more. He was strangely quiet, almost distant. "Damion, let me unbind you. I have a key."

He sounded disorientated. "He gave you a key?"

"I don't know why," she said.

"My wrists," he whispered.

It was wrong to cage him like this. With tears still in her eyes, she found the key in her hand and traced a path from his face to his chest until she found his arms and then his hands. They were tied together with something like wire cables very tightly, wrist to wrist. She searched frantically for a lock until she found it. Inserting the key, she turned it until she heard a click. The lock fell to the stone floor with a soft clink, but the wires remained tight until she began to carefully unwind them.

Damion took in his breath sharply and tensed up. As the wires came off his hands, she felt the skin on his wrists only to find it raw and chafed. He jerked his hands back when she touched it, clenching his fists, and then the wires were loose. She smiled and then gasped as suddenly his arms wrapped around her and pulled her close. She choked back a sob as he drew into his lap like she was a child and stroked her hair, but she felt more like he held her for his own comfort. Even so, she came readily, leaning her head against his chest, listening to his heart beat and trying not to feel as if she were the one who need comforting. She could have told him then that she had worried about him, that she loved him beyond all her bounds, but she couldn't say anything at all for several minutes.

"Does he mean to kill me soon?" Damion asked, sounding half disinterested.

His arms felt so right around her, but he wasn't squeezing her as tightly as she would have wanted. It was almost like he didn't have the strength to hold her properly. "Yes," she told him. 

"Why did he let you in here?"

"I don't know," she said. "He said it was an apology, for the night he, we…" She couldn't finish. "I'm sorry, Damion."

"An apology," Damion said grimly. If he registered her apology to him, he wasn't able to reply to it. She didn't blame him

He sounded so tired. Most of his words seemed disjointed, repeating what she had said, speaking small phrases and sentences. She pressed her head against his chest, seeking warmth and comfort by his proximity, but he let out a short and sharp cry from the pressure, the muscles in his chest tightening as he pulled back from her. She sat up, alarmed. 

"What's wrong?" she asked, sitting between his legs now, trying to make out his shape in the blackness. "Damion…"

"Nothing," he said. "I'm okay. Just bruised. How did you get here?"

"I came with Julia," she whispered. "And Relena. Relena is with Heero in the field. I know they will come to rescue us if we can stall long enough for them to get here."

He didn't say anything for a moment. "Julia? Where is she?"

"I don't know," Audrey said. 

He seemed to be trying to think, to process what was happening. The questions he was asking almost felt out of place, like he was searching for the right thing to say and couldn't quite comprehend what was going on. It was several minutes before he spoke.

"You're not a dream are you?" he whispered suddenly.

Her mouth parted and she swallowed. "No. I'm here."

"And Heero and Relena are coming to rescue me?"

"Yes," she told him.

Again it took several minutes before he answered. When he did, his words made no sense. "I've forgotten, Audrey. If I hadn't loved to remember…"

"Damion, are you really okay?" she whispered.

His voice was clearer when he finally replied. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm just tired. They don't allow me to sleep. I don't know how long I've been here."

"Days," she told him. "Have you eaten?"

"No," he said. "And I haven't thought about it much."

"Water?"

"A little," he said.

"Can you move?"

"Not really. I think I forget what it feels like to walk. I don't think I have the strength anyway."

Aghast, he reached forward and touched his hair, smoothing it to the side of his face. "Baby, you need to sleep," she whispered, and realized her cheeks were wet with tears.

"Baby?" His voice sounded so thick and strange, as if he was reaching through a fog.

She froze. They had never used affectionate terms for one another before. "We have nothing else to do," she said. "Gardiner may have let me in here because…" she licked her lips. "I don't know what he really expected, but…"

Damion laughed weakly. "He wants me to sleep with you? Even if I had the energy, I wouldn't in this place."

"I know," she said. "But take advantage of the time. Sleep. Damion, you need to."

He was quiet for a moment. "I can't," he said. 

She realized he was afraid. Her breath caught in her throat. What had Abel done to him to make sleeping a thing to fear? Carefully, she moved out from between his legs and knelt beside him, positioning him to lie against her chest. He half fell into her, his hands clutching her waist. "Yes, you can," she said as he settled against her, and gently brought his head down to her shoulder. "We have a few hours, maybe more. I'll watch over you." She could tell he could not relax. She was pretty sure his eyes were wide open. "Damion," she said in a quiet voice, and stroked his face with the tips of her fingers. His skin was smooth and soft, almost surreal. "Do you remember the time you took me out to the countryside, when you were so exhausted from staying up late nights to work? You slept by me then. "

"I remember," he murmured. 

"Close your eyes," she whispered into his ear. " I'll take care of you now like I did before."

If he wanted to reply, he didn't seem to know what to say, but she did not expect a response. He began to breathe a little deeper, his head sinking heavily against her breast. She shifted until she could put her arms around him and then just held him. She knew he had fallen asleep when he stopped moving, but he slept for only about ten minutes before he started awake again in a panic. Reassuring him with soft words and reminders of her presence, she soothed him with delicate touches and coaxed him again to sleep. When he fell asleep again he didn't wake up, breathing deeply. He was fatigued to the point of sickness. He hardly sounded like himself. Soon they would go home and he would be restored. She would revive the man she had fallen in love with. She had to believe that.

*****

When Abel Gardiner entered his rooms, he was smiling to himself and couldn't stop. The prince and the duchess, together in his dungeon. He didn't even care what they were doing. What he wanted now was a glass of wine. He supposed he would give them an hour or two, but it was getting to be time to be gone from here. He didn't really want to kill the prince, but he couldn't leave him alive. 

His rooms were luxuriously furnished and usually quite comforting. He had meant to pass the time in contemplation alone, but there was a gilded, golden, gorgeous woman sitting in a chair by his window.

"They did mention a second woman," he said smoothly as he closed the door behind him. "I thought Miss Veron had brought a maid. Don't ladies usually have one or two in attendance?"

"Some do," the strange women murmured, turning just her head to look at him with clear, crystalline eyes. He was captured by them immediately. Her dress would be worth a fortune by itself, and he dared not try to price her gems. She was clearly a lady by the way she held her head. He had come to recognize the small movements that classified them over the years and it fascinated him. Her smile was positively engaging. "But I have never been fond of them myself. You are Abel Gardiner?"

"I am."

"Julia Bureun," she murmured, and stood with a confident grace. 

"Pleasure," he said, interested in spite of himself. "Would you like some wine?"

"I may," she said. "What have you done with young Audrey, if I may ask?"

"She's with her prince," he replied, and had to suppress a grin. He tried to figure out what she was doing by taking in her glances and the small, subtle movements of her body, analyzing them. There was an attractive intelligence lurking behind her eyes and her smile was as manipulative as it was caressing. "You are a friend of his, yes?" he guessed, and was satisfied by the annoyance that flashed briefly in her eyes before she smoothed it over.

She tilted her head. "I have known him."

He smiled. He liked games. She looked like she might be an interesting player, and he had a little time to play. "Have you come to bargain for his life?"

Her eyebrows lose in surprise. "Would you be willing to sell it?"

He chuckled, amused. "As long as you realize it is mine to sell, I may be interested to sell it by the hour. He has a few free hours already. Miss Veron purchased them with tears."

He had meant to appall her, but she only lowered her eyelashes and continued to smile at him in that fascinating way. "Oh?" she said. "How many?"

"Maybe two," he replied.

"How about I raise it to six?" she said with a smile that flashed across her face. 

He considered that. "And what would you pay with?"

"Well I'm not much of a crier," she said.

He chuckled. "You don't look to be." 

"Is there something you wanted in particular?"

"How about he can have as many hours as you can keep me occupied?" he said half-jokingly, looking her up and down suggestively. She had a beautiful body and an equally exquisite face, but he was really only trying to scare her.

She hardly reacted at all, which piqued his interest further, as it was obviously designed to do. She smiled at him almost like he was a child idolizing her, but he saw through that too. "I don't think I care for him that much," she murmured. Her lips sparkled a shiny, wet pink as she approached him with a gentle glide, maneuvering around the bed deftly. "But I suppose we can discuss it."

"Are you really here for him?" he asked. He could hardly think so. He couldn't stop staring at her, wondering what he would do with a woman like her if he ever had one. Maybe this game could be played to his advantage. 

She sidled up close to him and stepped into his space, her hands delicately touching his shoulders. He put a hand around her back and pulled her up flush against him, which seemed to startle her. She made a little noise as he pulled her off balance, liking the feel of her torso melded into his. Her dress looked, felt and smelled like cold under his eyes and hands. His fingers twitched around the buttons in the back.

In a flash she had regained her composure, smiling up at him through black lashes that arched gracefully over her eyes. She was truly a beautiful girl. Of course he realized she was playing him, but if so, he had never felt so lucky in a game. Besides, he could play too.

"What is it you want, lady?" he murmured

She tilted her head so that he could see the length of her neck, which he took full advantage of, captivated by the way her golden blonde curls reflected the light. "I want a powerful man who can please me," she said. 

"Is that why you came here? What about your prince?"

"He's not my prince," she murmured. "And he's not my type."

"Well," he said. "I've always had a thing for ambitious, beautiful ladies. What do you want from me?"

"I already know you are powerful," she said, and spoke in such a low, seductive tone that he had to lean in to understand her. "But I think you will have to show me that you can please me."

He grinned and pushed one of her buttons open. When she didn't react, he started at the top and descended lower, opening her dress like a present, excited by the feel of a thin silk slip beneath her dress. Under that, he could clearly feel the heat of her skin. 

"I think," he whispered in her ear. "You have bought the prince a little time."

For a brief instant she stiffened. It turned him on, guessing her trick, and didn't bother him at all. But then she chuckled throatily and he wondered abstractedly who was really playing whom in this game.


	25. Vengence Taint

*zap stares in utter amazement at reviews for the last chapter*. Wow.  I'm speechless.  I didn't think this many people would come back.  I'm…really happy.  Thank you.  Everybody.  Thank you.  Please review again.  

Temper the Soul

Chapter 25

By Zapenstap

Opening his eyes was like moving from one dark place to another, but with consciousness came awareness and a clarity Damion hadn't had since he came to this place. He could feel the restorative powers sleep had on his body. Even though he still felt tired, it was better than the sick exhaustion that had caused his emotions to go awry and his mind to hallucinate. His senses tuned in to his surroundings. Everything seemed so much clearer.

There was something warm and soft behind his head, and a scent like fresh fruit and roses in his nose. It was the sweet feel and scent of a woman. For a moment he was thrown backward and thought he was a child and this woman was his mother holding him in those very early days when he was afraid of the dark.

Then memory returned.

_Audrey_.

He hadn't hallucinated about her. He closed eyes, letting his senses absorb the reality. She was much more real to him now than he she had been before, and her presence with him much more frightening. She shouldn't be here, not in this place. For one thing, it was dangerous. He also knew that she shouldn't see him like this, but for one of the rare times in his life, he didn't care if someone saw him weak and vulnerable. Vaguely, he recalled the day before when he had willingly sought comfort in her arms and closed his eyes. Slowly, he moved his hands to touch her, delicately brushing the back of a crooked finger against the soft skin of her cheek and neck.

His hands were untied. He was free. It was a glorious feeling to be able to move his arms apart. Carefully, he sat up and turned, gently grasping her shoulders and twisting them both so that he could hold her instead of the other way around. She murmured as he moved her, falling across his lap. Smiling, he lifted her body until he could ease her back against his chest and wrap his arms about her middle. He was surprised she didn't wake up but not sorry. He had never observed her asleep before and never held her so intimately. He loved it. For some reason he thought she might be a light sleeper, but apparently she slept heavily, unless today was a rarity and she was just exhausted. He wished he could see her face. People always looked so peaceful when they slept. But he settled for running his hands over her tangled hair and holding her in his arms. Any other place and it would have been a beautiful way to wake up.

Try as he might, he couldn't understand why Gardiner let her in here with him. Why such grace after such cruelty? Unless he thought of it as a sort of torture. If so, the man did not understand love at all. Giving her to him, letting him see her, was like drinking a potion of hope. He felt the despair drain away just feeling her close. He _did_ remember that time in the countryside, when her acceptance of his marriage proposal had been like signing a contract. But he had been sure then, sure she was a wonderful human being who would honor him all his life whether she loved him or not. Really, that was all he could ask for in his situation, all anyone should ask for. He remembered wanting to fall in love desperately, though, and recalled how surprised and confused he was when it happened simply from willing it. Of course, her qualities and attractiveness helped, but it was still so strange, and heartbreaking when she didn't return the gesture. He wondered if she was still self-possessed. He thought so. That wasn't something you shed like an accessory. Leaning over, he touched her forehead with his cheek, listening to her breathing. She was warm-blooded and beautiful. It just might take a little aggression on his part to break down her walls. He hoped he could do it.

Perhaps they would die today. Gardiner had said he would kill him soon, but Damion wasn't sure he minded. If he ever made it home alive, he wasn't sure how he would be able to live anyway. It wasn't that he would give up. He would certainly survive, but living was more complicated than breathing and he had lost so much of the foundations that had been his life. That was Gardiner's real victory, if he realized it. Depriving Damion of his country, his safety and even of the basic physical necessities only made him wish for an end to his pain, but destroying his sense of personal power, taking away Manny and making him carry on… that was a pain he would have to endure forever. He tried not to think about it, not while he was still in this place. He might be joining Manny in a little while after all. The thought was strangely comforting.

Audrey stirred against him, waking. He wished he could see her open her eyes, those dark, beautiful brown eyes and see his reflection there. He was a little afraid of what he must look like after being beaten, sleep deprived and starved, but he wanted to see her. He knew she must be beyond beautiful, something to continue living for. What did she feel for him? He was having trouble processing the way she had touched him and comforted him in what he considered last night. Affection was something he had wanted from her for so long, something he had hoped he would receive upon going home after reading her letters, but his heart was overwhelmed by the reality. If this was real, he never wanted to give it up. The only thing that poisoned it was the thought of Gardiner touching her, _his_ wife. 

The thought infuriated him, but Gardiner also terrified him. And he hated that. He was frightened of a man he wanted to murder. If he _was_ rescued, he would see the man killed. It would be justice. His whole body was in such pain, his mind distracted, and the girl in his arms had suffered so that he could suffer more. If anything was to be set right, it would have to begin by Gardiner's death, for Manny and himself and Audrey as well as the thousands of people who had lost so much because of the war out there on the plain. It was Gardiner's fault, and he would pay. He almost hoped the man came in the room to kill him. With his hands loose…

"Damion, what are you thinking about?"

Her cool hands touched on his neck and he breathed in quietly, calming himself. "Nothing," he said. "I'm just thinking what to do next."

She curled her legs up, huddling against his chest, seeking warmth. Her weight hurt him a little bit, in the places where he had been kicked most often, but he ignored it. Having her in his arms compensated for the discomfort, but he could not bring himself to kiss her, not in this place, not as a beaten and bloodied prisoner awaiting death. And then there was the thought of her in Gardiner's arms, in his bed, with his hands and mouth on her body, anywhere he liked. The image of them having sex infuriated and suffocated him. It was enough for him to abruptly push her away and try to stand up, tormented.

"Damion," she said, getting to her feet with him, her hands supporting him by his ribs. He bit back the pain that pressure caused and used her body and the wall to balance himself on his feet. His muscles, unused for several days, groaned in protest, but he managed to stand, leaning back against the wall weakly. Frustrated, he laughed, wheezing from the effort.

She lifted her hand from his chest and stroked his face, smoothing his hair and caressing his cheeks. "All right," she said quietly. "You're up. Try walking."

He realized she wasn't ashamed of him in this pathetic state. For a moment he just stood in the darkness, angry and ashamed of himself and confused by her dismissal of it. He couldn't say anything. There was nothing to do but try to recover. Gripping her wrists, he pulled her hands down and held on to her like she was a bar to hold him up, taking a few shaky steps forward. The blood rushed into his legs as he moved, and also rushed out of his head. Suddenly so dizzy the world flipped and blurred together, he stopped moving, waiting for his vision to clear, not that he could see anything anyway. Slowly, things evened out again, though he still felt weak and shaky. When he stood firmly on both feet again, Audrey ducked under his arm, standing beside him so that his arm draped over her slender shoulders. He felt old and decrepit and useless, but bit his tongue and kept working the feeling back into his legs. Eventually he was able to pull away from her and walk on his own. She let him go, standing perfectly still.

He had never explored the room before. There wasn't much to explore. The dimensions he knew from when the door opened and light flooded the room. For practice he walked from corner to corner, trying not to think that this was a cage and he couldn't get out if tried. 

"Damion?" Her voice was frightened in the darkness. He had left her alone.

He made his way back and touched her hand, pressing his fingers into her palm until she squeezed them. "How long was I asleep?" he asked her. "I feel worlds better."

"I don't know," Audrey said. "I fell asleep too, but it feels like hours doesn't it? He should have come back by now."

"When he comes," Damion said simply. "I'll kill him and you can escape."

"No," she protested, sounding aghast.

He didn't understand. "What do you mean 'no?' " he asked. She wanted to spare Gardiner's life? He tensed up. Maybe that was not what she meant, maybe she thought that when he said she would escape, he meant that he might die. Well, he might, but…

She touched his arm and he had the impression she was trying to look into his face to read his thoughts. "Damion, don't say things like that."

"I don't want to die," he said, hoping she meant the latter. "Maybe I won't. Maybe he won't bring that many guards. If I move quickly enough I can probably kill a few…"

"Damion," she breathed sharply. "Stop. Stop talking like that. You don't kill people."

That was what she was objecting to? He almost laughed. "Yes I do," he said calmly. "What? You don't think I can?" Then it made sense. Of course she knew he was able to kill, but the nice, sweet Prince Damion she knew would certainly try to avoid that all costs. "Audrey, we've run out of options."

"No," she said. "Wait for Heero. He…"

"Heero?" he interjected sharply. "It would be nice if he came, but I'm not sure what he can do by himself that I can't, even if he has more training and I…"

She sounded distressed. "He's a gundam pilot and he has friends, and weapons! You're talking crazy. I think I understand, but please just wait. They could be here soon and then we can all go home and forget about this."

For a moment he didn't say anything. "I won't forget about this," he said at last in a very quiet voice. "I won't forget what I endured here. I won't forget what he did to you, to us. I won't forget Manny. I can't."

"Damion…" She sounded choked up with tears. He didn't mean to make her cry. 

"I'm sorry," he said. "I already killed a man. I snapped his neck in two."

For a moment he thought she had stopped breathing. Then she spoke, soothingly. "It's okay," she whispered, as if trying to comfort him. "You…"

"Oh, I know," he interrupted curtly, but in almost a normal, accepting tone of voice. "You don't understand. I don't care that I killed him. I only wish I could have made it last longer. When I saw that bullet go through Manny's face I could have killed ten more just like him and still not given a damn. Manny was shot because he was in the way. I'll never forget that."

She began to cry and at first he didn't understand. Then he wondered if maybe she hadn't known about Manny, or if it was still very new to her. For some reason, he felt like he had accepted it and was ready to forget Manny ever existed despite what he had just said, but somewhere deep down he knew he wasn't really dealing with it all. It was too painful to think about too long. All he wanted to do was make the people responsible suffer.

But he didn't mean to hurt her. "I'm sorry, Audrey. Did you know?" She _was_ crying, shaking and holding herself. "You didn't know. I'm sorry." He tried to be comforting, to soften the harshness of the way he had revealed such terrible news. "I saw it happen," he said quietly. "He died quickly if that…"

"Don't try to comfort _me_!" she half-yelled at him, and his mouth parted in surprise at the way her voice assailed his ears. She sniffed and lowered her voice to a harsh, tear-filled whisper. "Can you listen to yourself? Manny was your best friend in the whole world. You lived by what he did for you. Don't pretend you don't care!"

"I do care," he said, amazed. "I'm really upset about it." But it sounded hollow even to him.

She made a sound like a hushed cry and then he felt her step into him, burying her head against his shoulder. His arms went around her mechanically, rubbing her back as her tears fell from her eyes and her shoulders shook. He wasn't sure if she was crying for Manny or him or herself. He didn't understand much of anything and didn't know how he felt. But he knew if he thought too much about it he wouldn't be able to think about anything else and he needed to keep his wits about him if he was going to be able to kill Gardiner.

*****

Julia lay sprawled in the red satin bed sheets and didn't bother to look for her clothes. She had always liked the feel of satin on her bare skin, and the color was perfect for her complexion. She was still reveling in a rare, warm afterglow, trying to gather her thoughts and settle on the best resolve.

Her determination and end course were completely unaffected by great sex. It made no difference to her whatsoever, other than that the distraction had been enjoyable as well as necessary. That she loathed the man made no difference either. This was business, nothing personal.

He looked a lot more harmless sleeping. It was to his benefit and her abstract misfortune that he was an attractive man with an appealing voice and very nice hands. Surprisingly gentle hands, really. She hadn't expected him to be at all gentle, but their lovemaking almost felt like its namesake, save that it lacked the necessary emotions. He had a very complex personality, hard and logical to blindness one minute and then brilliant and almost sensitive the next. She could see how Audrey had fallen victim to him without knowing what he was really like. Not all of the sex in the past few hours had been that gentle. But knowledge was power and she was no victim. She knew what she was doing and that gave her an edge as well as the necessary detachment.

Still, it was surprising the way he had been able to control her. That rarely happened, ever actually, or not since she was very young and naïve. Of course, her desperation on Damion's behalf gave him the upper hand and he knew it. Though she had no difficulty reading him, he seemed able to read her too, and that made things more difficult. She knew it also contributed to how he was able to pleasure her so well, but that was hardly any compensation after the moment. What she did, she did for Damion or she wouldn't be here. She didn't expect Damion to understand if he ever found out. There was no reason to tell him and no reason he should have to understand. She had been doing this for her own benefit for years and he knew it. Other than being personally involved, knowledge of this should neither surprise him nor affect him.

Abel sat up suddenly, opening his eyes and reaching for his cigarettes by the bed. She noted the brand name and how many were left in the pack absently. Leaning against the headboard with his knees propped up and his chest bare to the waist where the blankets covered him, he lit one cigarette, took a puff and turned his head to smile at her. He looked positively pleased. As he should, she told herself, considering.

She propped herself up on one elbow, letting her hair fall in a curled, golden glittering tangle about her arm and neck. She smiled at him too, though her thoughts roamed elsewhere.

"Well," Abel said, raising his eyebrows in a pleased and satisfied way. Then he laughed. "I enjoyed myself. Did you?"

"Do you care?" she murmured.

"Of course," he said assertively around his cigarette. "Men who don't have the principle of the thing all wrong. It satisfies my ego to see a girl satisfied. Otherwise, it's not as much fun."

He certainly was very frank about things, a stark contrast to her guile. She supposed it was best to reflect his personality quirk, though it was unlike the way she had conditioned herself to be for many years. "I did," she said. "Surprisingly so."

"Why a surprise?" he asked. "I know the rest of the world thinks I'm a villain, but you know a very great man, whether good or evil, must also have a great intellect, and I'm smart enough to know the benefits of paying high attention to details and giving payment where payment is due." He smiled at her in such a way that she couldn't help smiling back, as if he was sharing a secret with her. "You," he said, "are a very great woman. And dangerous too. I don't think I would have had as good of a time otherwise."

Well that was an interesting statement, but she didn't comment on it. "Do you think you're a villain?" she asked him in a cool, soft voice.

"No," he said simply. "But if you disagree with anyone strongly enough they are certain to hate you. I say a lot of things people disagree strongly with."

Strange how people never figured themselves to be truly bad no matter what their crimes. "About anarchy?" she asked.

He settled back against the pillows with a luxurious sigh. "That's a simple term, my dear. I don't like public officials. I don't like the way they argue, I don't like their system of government and I don't like the way they don't get anything done. I don't like the way a system of government such as most places have is practically designed to make the non-political part of a society ignorant and lazy. I also don't like how the people in power are always the worst sort of people pretending to be righteous and out to save everyone. They're fucking morons. People turn a blind eye to the bullshit that goes on in the political process, but people in power are always most corrupt than most criminals. That's an elective government."

"And the other kind?"

"Oh, you mean like your prince? That sort is worse then the rest. Do you think "born" rulers like him know what they're doing? Most are either pampered fools or tyrants. They don't know anything about the real world. I've seen them spend money like its water and order people around like it's some god-given right. They have privileges no one should have. They're not only very wealthy, but adored by everyone for titles that are given to them instead of earned. They don't notice how it is for the rest of the world. He doesn't understand where I come from or what I've been through to have what I have." Abel turned onto his elbow and looked straight into her eyes, smiling almost sweetly. "Do you know that if I wanted to, I could take care of a lady like you?"

She just looked at him, sensing a hypothetical point.

He laughed. "Ladies like you don't want a man like me," he explained. "It's not that I couldn't give you the things you're used to. It's not even my personality. It's the name. I don't have a name that people look up to. No one says 'ah, Mr. Gardiner, what an honor.' That's what Clara told me. 'You're a nobody, Abel. I want a prince.' She would sit all dainty and princess-like on a stool in front of her vanity and brush her hair, wearing whatever she liked around me because she knew that I knew I could never have her."

"You wanted Clara?" Julia asked, intrigued by his tone and the look in his eyes. "Did you love her?"

His brown eyes glinted under his reddish-brown locks. "I've never loved anybody. I'm not the type who can fall in love. That isn't the point. The point is that she wouldn't have me even if I did love her, even if she liked me, even if I could give her all the things she wanted."

She wondered whether or not she should believe him, though he certainly seemed convinced of it himself. "Clara was more than a little silly," Julia said, lowering her eyelashes and looking up at him from an angle. 

He seemed to be studying her face, smiling that knowing smile that so irritated her. "Did you know her?"

"Yes."

His eyes flickered to the side of the room. "She said she was always in love with Damion," Abel said. "Did you know about that?"

"Of course," she replied. "Everyone knew that. She was absolutely atrocious about it. A very sweet girl once, but uncommonly blinded by her ambitions and desires. Spiteful and aggressive. That's probably why you liked her."

"Very funny," he said. "But then, here you are." He smiled at her. "But you want something. Is it him?"

"No," she said. "I too, am not the type to fall in love."

He chuckled. "No, I can certainly see that."

"You said the ladies won't have you," she murmured. "But then there's me. And Audrey. Perhaps others as well. Didn't you have Audrey?"

He tilted his head, looking impressed. "Yes. Yes I did. You must have researched my entire life before you came up here." His eyes sparkled. "Find anything frightening?"

"Not your whole life," she told him. "Just what I could find out in the circles where I am known."

He almost seemed disappointed. "Well that won't be too much," he said. "Yes, I had Audrey."

"And that doesn't count?"

"Count? I'm not keeping score. Besides, she didn't know who I was. That was a very sophisticated party for upper class people and I had to sneak in. It was only by luck I heard she would be there. And you're wrong about others. One lady was desperate, cold as an ice cube and drunk as a fish. The other is trying to manipulate me."

She blinked lazily at him and sat up, letting the covers fall off her body. His gaze never flickered, but he traced her form with a familiarity that was almost disturbing, except that, of course, it really wasn't. Still, it annoyed her. She was growing tired of this game, tired of him paining himself in as righteous a light as the people he claimed to despise. "You went to that party with the intention to rape her, though. This," she whispered into his ear. "His consensual."

His brown eyes widened as he jerked back to stare at her. He looked positively shocked. She blinked at him, intrigued by his reaction. "Rape?" he said with a half-scandalized tone. "You're misinformed. I never raped anybody. She _agreed_."

She raised her eyebrows. "You mean she didn't push you off of her and start crying in the middle, so it was therefore not rape?"

He scowled. "No. Of course there was nothing like that, but it wasn't rape or date rape or anything of the kind. She was nervous and edgy, but she did consent." He frowned. "I guess when it came to the point she was a little more unsure, but she still accepted. Either way, it wasn't rape. And I was careful with her."

Technically it could be considered rape if either party was intoxicated and "unsure," but it was pointless to argue something so ambivalent. She was more curious as to his righteousness in the matter. He didn't lie about what happened, but he seemed to accept no fault either. "You don't rape girls," she repeated his statement flatly.

"No. Never."

"But you do murder people?"

"No." He sounded almost more indignant if that were possible. "No, I haven't ever killed anyone. What are you saying? Where did you hear I had?"

She could scarcely believe it. She searched his face for a hint of mockery or amusement, a sign that this was a game he might be playing with her like they had played a few hours before, but found nothing. There was no smile at the corner of his lips and no gleam in his eye. If anything, he looked offended. He was being honest. Horribly, inconceivably honest.

She rested her head on her hand again and tried to draw it out of him by being as casual as possible. "What about all the people you ordered killed? All the people who were murdered in Camadrie, the fighting, the lawlessness, the blood that was shed? Surely you remember giving speeches advocating such things."

"No," he said, and she could do nothing but stare at him, again surprised. "Don't look at me like that. I'm not crazy. Of course I remember giving speeches and being in Camadrie. I talked against politics and government, but I didn't order anyone _murdered_. I know quite a few people were killed."

"Because people declared anarchy."

"They're idiots," he said. "That's not my fault."

She shook her head. "Abel, all that happened out there is because of you. You have an army of men who do whatever you say and you've been quoted ordering people shot and cities burned and laws broken…"

He turned his head away, blinking his eyes rapidly. "I don't know what you're talking about. I don't remember anything like that. There are some people who guard me, but that's all." 

Slowly, she sat up, unable to turn her head away. He refused to look at her, staring into space and looking of all things, highly disconcerted. He didn't remember…? Slowly, a disturbing idea began to take shape in her head, but she could scarcely reconcile with it.

When he spoke again, he seemed to have fallen back into that amused and relaxed state of mind she was now familiar with. "Come on, let's not talk about this. Have you ever been to Italy? I would love to take you there sometime. They have some very nice shops where… What?" he interrupted himself crossly, taking note of her reaction to his words. "I know these are just games and you're here for that prince of yours, but I'm just saying I like you and I would like to take a lady like you somewhere. You can say no if you don't want to go."

For a full minute she could only stare at him, trying to make sense of his psyche. "You do remember Damion?"

He looked so confused by her confusion. "Of course. He's locked under this house with Audrey."

"And that is acceptable by you? Kidnapping is not on a level with rape and murder and rabble rousing?"

He scowled. "There you go again. I am not guilty of any of those except the kidnapping, I suppose, but I have a personal score to settle with him. He's responsible for a lot of shit that's happened to me, including Clara. I hate him. But I didn't murder anyone."

"I thought you were going to kill him in an hour or two?"

He shrugged. "Well I really oughtn't leave him alive."

"You just said you don't kill people."

He eyed her like she was the one who sounded crazy. "No, but there's lots of other men here that do."

She couldn't believe this. "And you don't consider that murder?"

"Well, they want him dead too," Abel explained as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "I don't say 'go, kill him' I say 'I'm done keeping him alive. He's all yours now.' " He took another drag of his cigarette and leaned his head against the pillows, settling down on the bed. 

"How have you treated him? Or allowed him to be treated?"

He looked up at the ceiling. "Nosy, aren't you?" He smiled. "I like an aggressive woman. I didn't want him sleeping, so I asked them to keep him awake. You have to understand how wild he was when we first brought him in. He was hardly intelligible and we didn't have any drugs to calm him down so I had to improvise." He shook his head, looking annoyed. "I could have fucking killed the bastard who almost killed him, though. I hate princes, especially that one. I don't mind if he gets a little banged up, but not killed for something so fucking stupid." He shrugged almost apologetically. "I really _did_ want to blind him, but that's only because I lost my temper." He blew smoke out his nose and looked at her. 

"Abel," she said. "Are you sure you don't remember doing violence to anyone?"

"I'm sure. I wasn't going to really hurt him, you know."

Julia kept her expression straight, but her mind whirled. She had proof of other things, times Abel Gardiner had gone wild and then ordered men shot for no reason, times when he had told his followers to burn cities to the ground, kill anyone who got in their way. She had learned from the men in this complex that he had threatened cutting out Damion's eyes and had only retracted from the act by a sudden and startling change of mind.

"Do you remember threatening to gouge out his eyes with a knife?"

For a moment it appeared as if he stopped breathing. "No," he said almost too quickly.

She could feel the way her features had scrunched in confusion. Her eyebrows were starting to hurt. "It happened only a few hours ago, Abel."

For a second he was silent, but she could almost hear him thinking. Abruptly he sneered, his features contorting as he jabbed the butt of his cigarette onto the desk beside him. "I wanted to frighten him," he said after almost a minute. The words came out like a hastily constructed lie. Julia had always been able to spot one. "That was when…" he frowned, as if trying to remember. "Something happened in Camadrie. I was furious with him."

She would need more time to understand this. Quickly, she made up her mind. The warning dropped from her lips heavily. "The Preventors and peace-keeping forces will be here soon," she said. "If you don't want to be caught and killed, we had better get dressed and depart."

The way he suddenly looked at her caused her to draw in her breath sharply. His expression shattered her façade. The intelligence in his eyes seemed to rip apart all of her hidden motives, to unbury her secrets and hang them up on display. She stared back at him, returning the dissecting glare, assertive and calm outwardly and terrified inside. Frozen, they locked gazes, waiting for the other to look away first. Neither moved.

"Why tell me that?" he asked, still staring at her almost balefully.

"I don't want Damion to kill you," she said. "Get dressed."

He smiled at her and then got out of bed, hardly ashamed of his state of undress. "Are you sure you're not the type to fall in love?"

"I'm sure," she said.

*****

Duo sat on the hood of the truck, watching Heero as he pulled Relena aside in the fading night and took her out a little ways away were the rest of the team couldn't hear them talking. Standing there with the dawn behind them and his fingers under her chin, they looked like a couple confessing their love, but Duo knew Heero had dragged Relena out there to convince her to wait behind for them. He could tell by the way she stood, with her long hair falling behind her back and her arms tense from the shoulders to the wrists, that Heero wasn't winning. Funny, Heero used to always win. Duo made a note that it was dangerous to get married.

Duo smiled to himself. It calmed him, watching them together in times like these, like a sparkle of light in the darkness. He had already cleaned his gun and arrayed himself in all the materials he hoped he would need for this raid, but there was always that bit of anxiety right before the beginning of a mission, and seeing them together always made him happy. Seeing Hilde even over the video communicator made him happy too. He supposed it was time to stop playing games and being unsure with her. Either they would try it for real or go their separate ways. He wanted to give it a try.

Relena shouldn't come, though. He knew that. She would distract Heero being there, distract everyone, and if anything happened to her… He knew she was a strong girl, a strong person, but she was still a girl and she was weaker then the rest of them. She couldn't run that fast. She knew hardly anything about combat. She had the spirit of a fighter but not the training, and Heero had won the argument about her holding guns. She had promised not to do it anymore.

At length, Heero pulled her close and she rested her head on his shoulder, wrapping her arms around his back. The shadows their bodies made in the dim light melded into one. Discreetly, Heero lifted her chin again and kissed her. Duo looked away, knowing how private they were most of the time. Very reserved people were Heero and Relena, at least in public, and he suspected in private too. But they loved each other and sometimes that overcame their shyness in stressful situations. He still remembered when Heero was awkward about even admitting he had feelings for the princess. That seemed like ages ago, another time and place.

Heero took out his gun and began speaking very quietly, showing Relena something. She kept nodding, her head lowered, but Heero didn't give the gun to her. Of course not. Maybe he was explaining how to use if she absolutely had to, though she already had once. Still, Duo knew that Heero would do everything in his power to keep that from happening again.

When they eventually strolled back together, side by side, Duo swallowed a sigh. She was coming. Their eyes looked identical, eerily so. God must have hand-fashioned a girl like Relena for Heero. There was no other way in Duo's mind that a boy like Heero would ever have found anyone who could stand him, much less love him and relate to him so strongly. And he didn't even really believe in God. He believed in Death. But he supposed everybody believed in death.

"Are we ready?" Trowa murmured by his side.

"I think so," Duo said, resting his wrist on his knee. "I hope we're successful."

"You mean that we find Damion alive or that we remain alive doing it?"

"Both," Duo said.

But like any mission it was possible he might meet either God or Death tonight.


	26. Bitter Rescue

Temper the Soul

Chapter 26

By Zapenstap

Relena stayed in the backseat of the jeep Wufei was driving, slouching so that if there was gunfire, she would be protected, though it limited her vision. Heero sat on the back of the truck, getting ready to leap out as soon as they came to a stop. Relena couldn't stop looking at him. Heero was beautiful. She had always thought he had a rare, masculine beauty that was as pretty as it was powerful with his muscled body, brown hair and beautiful deep blue eyes. When this was over, they would go back home and love each other and forget about all of this. He was wearing a brown, khaki coat belonging to the army, and in it he carried two or three guns, extra bullets, a few explosives, and two knives. She had seen him putting it all together after they had had their discussion. All she had asked of him was that he would stay alive for her. All he asked of her was to let him do his job to the fullest and not hold him back. She understood, but she was a little afraid. 

They pulled up to the manor with the other trucks, stopping just beyond the gates. A shout went up from the manor, followed by the first gunshots, aimed at them probably, though they were not close enough to be hit. Otherwise, it was a lovely manor house, desolate in the area, but complete with gardens along the walkway and a fountain just beyond. 

"Stay here until the area is secure," Heero told her, and bent down to kiss her forehead.

She nodded. They had agreed to this.

Wufei stopped the truck and both Heero and Duo leaped out on either side, hefting heavy, two-handed guns. All the trucks parked in a line, several rows deep, and soldier leapt out of them by the hundreds, armed and racing for a set of two black wire gates. Four hundred additional soldiers climbed out with Heero and Duo, their booted feet pounding against the ground as they inched toward the manor house in a running crouch. Relena shrank back into the back seat as the sound of gunfire exploded in the area. The beautifully, hand-crafted black wire gate was practically torn off its hinges as Preventor soldiers swarmed into the courtyard. Relena covered her ears as shots rang out and men began screaming. She wasn't alone in the jeep. Wufei was still sitting up front, talking on the radio, commanding the troops.

Shouts rang out as more of Gardiner's people flooded the courtyard from outside. Relena tried to remember that they were four hundred strong and Gardiner could have only half that at most. They would win. It just depended on how long it took to contain the enemy. Hopefully, not long at all.

Strangely, Relena didn't feel that frightened. All her life she had conditioned herself not to be the sort of person who lost their head in a situation like this. It had served her when she met Heero and her life turned upside down. This wasn't the first time she had been in a battle, nor been exposed to gunfire. At least she wasn't targeted.

"You all right back there?" Wufei said calmly from the front, though shouts and gunshots almost drowned out his voice.

"Yes," she said, unable to see anything and wishing she could look out over the battle, but she promised Heero she would stay as safe as possible until it was safe to search the house for Damion. "Wufei? Are you angry that I came along?"

"No," he said. "You've got the strength or Heero wouldn't like you so much, and I respect Heero Yuy. Just don't do anything foolish. You're both prone to that."

She smiled a little smile. "Thank you, Wufei."

After what seemed like only a few rounds of fighting, everything became quiet. Wufei was talking into the radio again, but she couldn't make out what he was saying. Abruptly, he climbed out of the truck and waved a hand at her to do the same. Slowly, she rose, the wind catching her hair and blowing it into her eyes. The battle at the front door must be over. All of the opposition on the outside of the manor was subdued. Men were filing inside, reloading if they needed to. 

"Sir," a young soldier said to Wufei. "There aren't as many here as we feared. The two hundred that escorted Gardiner here are less than half that number now. We should have 100 per cent containment momentarily."

"Anyone see Gardiner yet?" Wufei asked. 

"No sir," the soldier replied.

"Prince Damion?"

"No sir."

Relena looked around for Heero, scanning the lines of soldiers waiting patiently for orders. There were about twenty prisoners, men from Gardiner's mob who had surrendered. The doors to the manor had been flung open, bodies on the stairs. She estimated maybe 40 people lay dead, largely on the other side, but a few of their own men. The soldiers outside were tending to the slain and the wounded.

"I don't see Heero," she said.

"He went inside," Wufei told her. "With Quatre. They were the first to enter. Trowa and Duo just went in together."

Her stomach fluttered. The first to enter, which meant the first targeted, the first killed if there was opposition on the other side. Taking deep breaths, she looked around, blinking in the morning sunlight, and tried not to think of anything horrible.

"Sir, first floor cleared, sir, over," someone said loudly over the radio.

"Roger that, Leif," Wufei said into the communicator. 

"Can we go inside yet?" Relena whispered. 

"It's not safe," he told her.

Together they walked closer to the manor as Wufei began issuing orders to the remaining soldiers still outside. There was still shouting and gunfire coming through the radio, but Relena tried not the listen. She also refused to think about anyone shooting down from the windows at them.

Relena waited nervously until the noise of battle through the radio died out. All was quiet for a several long moments.

"Wufei, " Trowa's voice came through. "All the floors are cleared. We have 98 per cent containment, fifteen prisoners and twenty of the enemy killed. We've lost five of our own."

Relena held her breath as Trowa paused suddenly, as if hesitating.

"Quatre's wounded."

"How badly?" Wufei asked.

"He'll survive. He got hit on the head and went unconscious. Heero's with him."

Relena let out her breath.

"Any sign of Gardiner or Prince Damion?" Wufei asked.

"We're still checking, but no, nothing," Trowa responded.

"All the rooms have been checked?" Wufei asked.

"Yes. There's still a storage cellar below and the attic above."

"All right," Wufei said. "We're coming inside."

"It's secure," Trowa assured them.

Relena strode in without hardly waiting, ignoring the surprised looks the soldiers gave her. She kept her head high and her face straight under their scrutiny. Inside the manor, Preventors lined the room, standing around in straight lines with their guns shouldered. On the left side of the room, bodies were being laid out and their faces covered. The enemy's fallen was separated from their own people. Relena didn't recognize any of the dead and avoided looking at them. On the right side of the room, fifteen prisoners waited on their knees with their hands tied behind their backs with twine. Each prisoner had two guards, one on either side. Relena didn't look at them either. In the back of the room were the wounded and the remaining soldiers. From just behind her, the first thing Wufei did was order the wounded that could be moved to be carried to the medical vans. Other soldiers were sent to fetch nurses and supplies from the trucks to tend those that could not be moved. Next, Wufei ordered the bodies of the enemy to be removed outside. Their own dead were to be carried out ceremoniously.

Through all of this, Relena's eyes searched for Heero. As people began to file out, she found him, kneeling on the ground behind a crowd of soldiers among the wounded. Quatre lay on his back at his feet, head turned and blonde hair strewn over his forehead and eyes. Trowa leaned against the wall behind him with the radio in his hand and Duo crouched on the other side of Quatre, his wrists on his knees.

When Relena entered with Wufei, Heero looked up and smiled at her. She smiled back and approached him quietly. Gracefully, he rose to his feet.

"How is Quatre?" she asked, but her mind was distracted with her husband, alive and well after the last battle. "Are you hurt?" She lifted a hand to his face as if she expected to find a cut there, but he turned his head away with a smile.

"Quatre will be all right. I'm fine."

Her eyes shimmered. "Can you promise me that when this is done I won't have to endure it anymore?" she asked. 

"I hope so," he said, and took the fingers of her left hand in his, his thumb and forefinger playing with her wedding ring.  For the first time, she wholly believed him.

"Oh," Quatre said suddenly, blinking.

"Hey!" Duo cheered.  "Welcome back."

Quatre sat up slowly and rubbed his head.  "Were we successful?"

Anxiety seized Relena again.  She clutched at Heero's clothes urgently.  "Where is Gardiner?" she whispered. "And Damion?" 

Heero shook his head and she knew he was wrapped up in dark, troubled thoughts. "I don't know."

Her stomach lurched. "Don't tell me he's dead and Gardiner has escaped, Heero."

"I said I don't know. Leif and some of the others are searching the house."

"What do the prisoners say?" Wufei asked.

"They don't know where Gardiner went," Duo said from the ground.  Quatre was still blinking.  "No one saw him leave, but they said two ladies came here recently. They don't know what happened to either of them accept that they both went to see Gardiner individually."

"Audrey and Julia," Relena breathed. 

"And Prince Damion?" Wufei asked. He sounded far too calm.

"They said he was being held underground," Heero replied in almost the same tone. "A group of Taravren soldiers went to check." Heero looked away from them all, staring off into space with those blue eyes like he sometimes did. "The prisoners were afraid when we asked about his health, but they said they thought he was still alive."

Relena closed her eyes.

Nobody said anything.

*****

There had been movement above them for some time now, the trampling of feet and shouting. Damion muttered that he had never heard so much commotion during his time here, but it sounded like battle. Audrey did not say that she hoped it was Heero. For some reason, that seemed to infuriate him. He did speak occasionally aloud, perhaps to her and perhaps to himself, about wishing he had a quarterstaff or a knife or a gun. Her breath caught whenever he spoke like that. She could understand Damion being forced to kill someone in great need and wishing to fight for himself, but not being eager for it. It frightened her. His sense of revenge and hatred were so unlike him. She couldn't tell what was making him so furious. She knew that being in someone else's power, abused in someone else's power, might cause him to seek control over his life in extreme ways, but this felt more connected to what Gardiner had said about her, and what had happened to Manny.

That still choked her up. Manny really was dead. She had assumed it was true, but it was hard to stomach. She had come to love him after spending so much time in the palace, and her heart ached, but for her it was just a matter of letting go of a life she had valued. It was quite a different thing for Damion, who would have to rebuild practically everything about his life with that one man, his oldest and possibly only real friend, missing. She couldn't imagine Damion having to watch Manny being shot dead at his feet. What frightened her was that Damion continued to ignore it. He didn't seem angry or sad. He kept saying "Not now. Not now." By the way he spoke, it was like he expected to find Manny alive as soon as he could get out of this room, like everything that happened in this room was a dream that would disappear as soon as he was free. 

Audrey tried not to fidget, even in the dark. Damion might pick up on her anxiety. Instead she kept her arms to her sides, listening to Damion pace the room like a panther in a cage with its tail lashing. If she could see anything, she was sure she would have been able to see his eyes gleaming like storm clouds and lightning. 

She could tell he was agitated and it had to be because of Abel. Gardiner must have said something about her, something to cause Damion to retract his hand even when he reached for her. There was nothing she wanted more than to accept his love and let it wash over her, even if she was afraid, but he seemed unable to touch her now. He hadn't spoken in some time. She could tell he still loved her simply by the way she felt when he was close, but he wouldn't kiss her or hold her anymore and there was little she could say because she understood. She didn't let herself wonder for long what it meant, though. She wanted to see him safely home first. Alive.

"Why doesn't he come?" Damion muttered savagely. "Audrey? Audrey where are you?"

"Over here," she whispered, and felt him come near to her. Gingerly he took her hand, curling his fingers around her palm and leading her into the darkness. Unsteady, she walked along beside him until they came to the door.

"I wish this had some sort of handle," Damion muttered. "I will not be trapped in here forever." He said it with such grim determination she almost believed he would claw the door down.

"Would we escape?" she whispered.

"I need to kill Gardiner," he said, so casually, "but after that, yes. And if that guard is still alive I'll kill him too." He said it like it was nothing, like it mattered not at all that such an act would be murder, regardless of whether or not he was provoked into it.

"Damion, I know you're angry, but…"

"Don't start that again," he said harshly. "They deserve worse!"

She grabbed his arm. "You can't erase what wrong's been done to you by killing those who did it. That's revenge, not justice, Damion. You will be a king. Surely…"

"What's wrong with revenge?" he demanded, cutting her off.

She took several breaths, holding onto his arm with both hands. "It feeds off of hate," she said very quietly, shaken. "I don't want you to hate like that. I don't want you to become something like that." Black and angry and twisted inside, never satisfied… That sort of man on a throne would be terrifying. Revenge instead of justice, contemptible pity instead of mercy, anger instead of kindness. "Please," she whispered. "You're not like that."

For a moment he didn't say anything, as if contemplating what value her words had. "I'm sorry," he said in a cooler voice than she expected. "But I hate them. I want to kill him."

And he would. She knew it. In hot or cold blood, he would take his life.  He had never killed anyone before all of this. Lowering her head, she bit her lip, still holding onto his arm like she was his lady at a dance. The second he came across Gardiner with his hands loose, he would kill him. What would be the result? Would he feel disappointed that dealing death would not assuage his anger? Would he take pleasure in it? Both could be dangerous. Maybe it would make him want to cause his adversaries pain too, and humiliation, and fear, all the things that people like Gardiner fed on to make them feel more powerful, more secure…because they were not. "Don't do this, Damion," she pleaded. "I love you. You're better than this!"

The muscles in his arm flexed as he clenched his fists. "The only reason I have managed to stay sane is by imagining the things people like Gardiner deserve for hurting me!" 

"It's not your fault!" she said. "And it's not your right to dispense justice. You're too partial. Don't dwell on causing suffering to other people. It's horrible when it happens! Listen to yourself. You're frightening me."

"_I_ frighten you?" he said, sounding amazed. "You slept with _him_."

"Damion," she whispered, and felt hurt in spite of herself. "I'm sorry. That was a mistake and it meant nothing. I love _you_."

He jerked in her grasp, trembling. "You keep saying that. Don't. It doesn't feel the same here. This whole thing was different before and it was easy to forgive you then. It was all right. But now I keep thinking of you with _him_ and I can't…" He pulled completely away. 

"You can't love me anywhere if you continue to hate him so much," she said.

"I do love you," he said, but he said it viciously, like it had a dry taste. "But you're right. That's why I have to kill him."

"No," she said, shaking her head. Perhaps it was the pain in her voice that caused him to move closer to her.

His presence was comforting, but it was if he hardly seemed to hear her, or at least to understand. "I'll just kill him," he said quietly as if to no one at all, but then she felt his breath on her face, "and then we…" His hand touched her face softly, trailing down her neck to her collarbone. She stood frozen in one place, barely daring to breathe, wishing for this intimacy and fearing it at the same time. His hand slid down to the top of her left breast like he was looking for her heartbeat. She could hear him breathing heavily in the darkness. A moment later he seemed to realize his position, but instead of pulling away he gently palmed her whole beast, cupping it in his hand. She couldn't swallow or move or speak or do anything except stand there and try not to feel lightheaded. Her whole body was shaking like a leaf in a gale. She felt the thumb and forefinger of his other hand softly grasp her chin and stopped breathing when his lips came close to her mouth. 

But he didn't kiss her. "You _are_ frightened," he said sadly. He dropped both of his hands. "I'm sorry."

She opened her mouth to tell him it was all right, even though she was terrified, when there came a heavy banging on the other side of the door.

"Prince Damion!" a voice shouted. "Are you in there? Regent!"

They both stopped in shock. Relief flooded her body.  Rescue had come.

Damion turned from her abruptly. "I'm here!" he shouted back.

Audrey and never heard his voice sound more powerful or commanding. Mentally, she buried her fears and desires, everything that had just happened, and prepared herself to be his Queen, like a pillar or foundation from which he could draw power and support. That's what he would need right now. If his own soldiers had come to rescue him, the woman who would be the bride of their Prince could not appear scared or anxious or uncertain. If his authority was undercut by his condition after being here, she would need to compensate. Maybe that was why Julia had asked her to remain in her silk and jewelry.

The door was opened and Audrey could make out a bare sliver of light coming out from under the door at the top of the stairs. She could see several figures in the darkness, three or four, reaching their arms into the space of the doorway to help them through.

She accepted a proffered hand gratefully, feeling like she was being pulled out of a pit instead of a doorway. Damion took the hands of the people that reached for him too, clasping them like a handshake, but fended off their efforts to physically help him. He walked out his own, and in the dim light, she could barely make out the outline of his form. Her vision had never been so precious to her.

"Who are you?" Damion asked when the door to his prison was shut behind him.

"Leif, my Lord," said one of the figures, "Taravren soldier. We're all Taravren soldiers. You have command of us, sir, but we're under the command of Preventor Wufei Chang currently."

Damion nodded slowly. "Thank you for coming for me," he said with genuine gratitude.

The men turned their heads toward each other, exchanging glances. "There was nothing else we could do, Prince Damion," Leif said, sounding amazed. "It would dishonor ourselves and our entire country not to come for you."

"I've found a light," someone at the top of the stairs whispered.

A light flared to brightness overhead. Audrey shut her eyes, used to the darkness, and it took several minutes before she could see properly. But Damion shouted in something like pain, stumbling backward, his eyes visibly watering. The Taravren soldiers made exclamations of distress, reaching to help him. Leif yelled at the man above to turn off the light.

"No!" Damion said, his eyes shut tight and a hand pressed over them, not letting anyone touch him. "Leave it on," he said more calmly. They left it on. Slowly, he took his hand away and tried to open his eyes, but it was no good. They immediately filled with tears and he was forced to shut them again. 

"Oh my god," Audrey whispered, and not for his vision.

Damion's face was covered in bruises. There were slash marks stained with blood on his coat. The bruises on his face weren't disfiguring, but they were ugly and purple, one that streaked under his left eye and another on the side of his head. His hair was disheveled, like Heero's at its worst, and the chafing on his wrists was worse than she had first thought. Against her will, sadness enveloped her and tears welled up in her eyes.

"Damion, your injuries…" she whispered.

"I'm fine," he said, his eyes still closed.

Leif and the other three soldiers were staring at their Prince in disbelieving horror, like they couldn't make sense of what they saw. There was also a softening about their eyes, like they were just realizing how human he was. One of the soldiers looked like he wanted to break something from the way his jaw was set. Leif just looked shocked. Audrey knew these men must be some of the most loyal to Damion, especially since they came all this way and then searched for him personally. She knew there would be others who would think less of him for this. 

Audrey took deep breaths and moved between the soldiers. Damion let her touch him, though he fended the men off. She watched him anxiously, wishing to see his eyes more than anything, but he clearly could not open them. It wasn't even a bright light. "Just give it some time," she said. "You've been locked in the dark for awhile."

He nodded. "Help me upstairs."

"You can't fight Gardiner blind," she whispered in his ear. "Be glad you are not."

Slowly they made their way upstairs, using the railing a great deal. Audrey warned him of the first two steps and he made the rest on his own. His soldiers ran ahead of them, casting worried glances over their shoulders. Audrey could tell Damion was beyond frustrated, rescued by his own people and unable to even look at them, unable to see. As they reached the top of the stairs, he had managed to open his eyes a crack, looking at everything through a watery squint. Those lovely gray pupils still shone under that waterfall of tears, and he kept wiping those away and taking deep breaths.

When they came to the door Damion straightened, blinking his eyes rapidly until he could open them completely. They still teared up, but he managed to keep them open. Even with the bruises he was beautiful and her heart stopped to watch him. The bruises didn't look that horrifying now. It was mostly just the shock of seeing them. He turned to her with a creased brow. "Is it that terrible?"

"I can't believe they hated you so much," she said. "But it's not really too bad. We can't let the cameras see you."

He smiled at her and then turned to face the door, setting his face. His eyes flashed like sunlight on the blade of a sword. 

That smile comforted her, but she could still sense a deadly rage about him, increased by the reaction of his soldiers to his condition. 

When they stepped into the foyer, the lights were brighter and Damion flinched again, shielding his eyes with his hand, but he stepped out into the crowd with proud steps, Audrey walking just beside, just as proud and erect. She faced the crowd with her frostiest look, not unkind, but the sort of look that commanded respect, her spine straight and her arms hanging free at her sides. 

Heero, standing by Relena and the other gundam pilots stared at them with open mouths.

"Oh, Damion," Relena said, taking a step forward. "Your face. Are you…?"

He raised a hand to halt her and Relena stopped ten paces from him and only two from Heero, looking surprised. "I'm fine," Damion replied carefully and quietly. "Thank you for rescuing me."

For almost a minute there was silence in the room as Audrey took normal breaths. Damion didn't smile at anyone, or look happy or relieved. Nor did he look fragile or in pain. To her he looked tired, strung out and barely able to contain a raging fury, but that was only because she had spent several hours with him already. One thing was clear. He looked nothing like the Damion anyone remembered.

Audrey caught the moment when Damion suddenly locked eyes with Heero, the way they squared off in an almost challenging way. She wondered if it was because Damion was embarrassed at having to be rescued by Heero…again. Heero just looked stunned, his lips parting slightly as they stared at one another, and for a brief moment, Audrey thought they looked exactly the same. Damion looked away first, but he turned his head coolly. Heero looked baffled. 

"Who here is a soldier from Taravren?" Damion called out. Almost half the room stood, turning their attention on him as one. He nodded at them slowly. "Thank you for what you've done today," he said sincerely. "For all you have done for Taravren these past months." Gratified, the soldiers nodded at one another, smiling and looking extraordinarily pleased. Damion caught their attention again with a glance. "My entire guard was killed. I'll need a new one, if anyone is interested." Dozens of men looked up with something almost like excitement, or like people who had received a particular honor or distinguishing praise. Whispers began almost as soon as he was finished, but Damion raised another hand to shush them. "Understand," he said quietly. "That my old guard was completely destroyed. I know some of you may consider it a high honor to guard the King of Taravren and it has always been so, but there is a very real danger." The whispers died down, but hope and excitement still shone on many faces. "I will speak with those of you who are interested another time." He smiled at them. "Again, thank you. Resume what you were doing."

After a moment of silence, people began moving slowly, carrying bodies outside, tending the wounded and performing the other various tasks probably appointed by Wufei.

As soon as he was no longer the center of attention, a cold mask settled over Damion's face. Deliberately, he moved toward Heero, looking as if he was switching gears. Audrey practically ran to catch up, her heart beating wildly in her chest. He had a murderous look on his face.

"Wait, Damion," she said. "It's over."

"It's not over," he said darkly. "Heero!"

Heero turned, Relena again at his side. "Damion," he began. "We were worried. It's good to…"

"Where is Gardiner?" Damion demanded quietly but firmly. Without stopping or waiting for an answer, he reached inside Heero's coat. Audrey caught a glimpse of the gun Damion was aiming for before Heero caught Damion's arm almost automatically, turning aside and twisting sharply. Damion sucked in air through his teeth and anger flashed in his eyes.

It took a second for Heero to realize what he had done and hurriedly release Damion's arm, but by then it was too late. Damion hit back, elbowing Heero sharply in the side. Heero gasped, falling sideways and doubling over, perhaps unprepared in his shock and perhaps because he schooled himself not to retaliate. Like a snake, Damion snatched the gun from Heero's belt and began loading it as if he had been using one for years.

"Heero!" Relena cried, half kneeling to catch and steady him. She looked up at Damion in astonishment. "Damion, what are you doing?"

"Sorry," Damion said blithely, turning the gun over in his hands. "Where is Gardiner, Heero?"

Audrey looked around nervously. Most of the soldiers were outside, but those that were left were watching with open mouths and stunned faces. If Gardiner was anywhere in the manor, Damion would kill him, captured or not. "Damion," she said. "Everyone is…"

"Don't worry about it," Damion said without even looking up. "They will obey if I tell them not to speak of this. Heero, where is Gardiner?"

Heero didn't look at all frightened. The tone he took was exactly wrong and Audrey breathed in sharply the second he began to speak. "Put the gun away, Damion. You can't kill him."

Damion's head snapped up and he dropped the gun to the ground by his feet. "Can't." He said it curtly, biting off the words. Holding out his arms, he smiled a bitter, angry smile. "Can't?" His eyes were still teary from the lights, but he shouted. "Who are you to tell me what I can and can't do?" 

Relena's eyes were shimmering with confusion and fear and sympathy, but she looked angry too. "Damion, how can you talk to us like that? We've been worried sick about you! What is wrong with you?"

"He's angry," Audrey explained hurriedly in a hushed tone, tears in her eyes as she stared at their startled, hurt and angry faces. "He's been tortured and abused…"

Damion's face looked like he had been hit as he whirled to stare at her. "_Shut up_, Audrey!" he shouted, and she saw tears in his eyes before he squeezed them shut and ducked his head. She couldn't speak, stunned as Heero and Relena that he would say that to her. But Damion was out of his dark cage now and nothing was all right like he thought it would be. "Tell me where I can find Gardiner, Heero," he demanded with a bit of a pleading tone now, like that goal was the only thing he had left. Heero said nothing, remaining blank-faced and imposing, like a wall. Damion's eyes watered or teared up as he shouted; it was difficult to tell which. "I'm not doing this for me! I'm doing this for Manny! Where can I find Gardiner?" 

"Killing Gardiner won't bring Manny back."

Damion just stared at him. 

"Manny's dead, Damion," Heero said in a monotone. 

Damion swallowed. There were definitely tears in his eyes, which looked more red now than gray. "I know," he whispered. "I saw it."

"We buried him," Heero said just as plainly. "I'm sorry." There was almost no emotion in it at all, to the point of being insulting.

"We're so sorry," Relena added with more genuine sympathy and concern. Gently, she tried to touch Damion's wrist. "Please understand that we…"

Damion wrenched his hand away almost jerkily, staring at Heero as if he was some sort of demon. "Why won't you tell me where Gardiner is?" he demanded.

"We didn't catch him," Heero said. "We think he left before we even got here. Maybe just before."

Damion just stared at him for a moment. Then a look stole over him, like a sudden epiphany or realization. He looked up, his eyes widening, and let out a small laugh that sounded like a choke. "Julia," he gasped, and then clenched his teeth together in a look of pure fury. "_Julia_!" He sounded so angry and betrayed that Audrey was afraid he might turn violent again. Desperately she tried to touch him, but he pulled away roughly. 

"You can't kill him," Heero repeated. "I won't let you. It would be a mistake. You need to…"

Damion's eyes blazed as he turned his attention on Heero. "You don't get to tell me what to do. And you don't get to tell me you're sorry."

Heero opened his mouth.

"You're not my mentor," Damion said, cutting him off. "And you're not my friend. You're not even my peer. You didn't care about Manny and if you ever cared about me, I couldn't tell." Heero looked stricken, shutting his mouth suddenly, looking stunned. "Don't pretend you ever tried to be friends with me. I don't understand you and you don't understand me so let's just leave it at that, okay? I've noticed you're socially challenged so let me give you a few tips. Just for your information, you don't come to a friend's home after his father has died and squabble with your girlfriend about your sex life. That could have waited. You don't leave in the middle of a party your friend and host needed you to be at to have sex with your girlfriend either. You don't hit your friend in the face in his own home when he is proposing to his bride and you don't leave your grieving friend without saying goodbye. And when his best friend dies you don't bury him on a some God-forsaken, forgotten plain and say you're sorry!"

There were tears in Relena's eyes. "It was my idea to bury Manny, Damion. We knew it would be hard for you, but there was nothing else…"

Damion clenched his teeth and just shook his head at her before looking back at Heero. "I think it's completely weird what you told me about Audrey, but if you were curious, you were right. You know, you were supposed to be there for me, but it might have helped if you maybe tried to have _one_ conversation with Audrey instead of just _assuming_ that she would eventually love me like everybody else thought just because I was a _nice guy_. I don't think you've ever even talked to her before." Damion took a deep breath, his eyes glittering with tears and anger, hurt and grief so deep it was like an open wound. "Thank you for coming to rescue me," he said with sincerity. "I appreciate that, I do, but stick to soldiering, because you're not very good at friendship. I'm a Prince. I'm battered and maybe I've had my ass kicked more times than you, but I am a Prince and in about a week I will be a King. You don't get to tell me what I can and can't do. And don't talk about Manny. You understood him less than you did me."

Audrey couldn't stop her eyes from filling up with tears or abate the revulsion in her stomach. She twisted her head between Heero and Relena and Damion, trying to convey her apologies on his behalf, mouthing in a mute voice that he was just very angry and taking it out on them. Heero wasn't looking at her, though. He was staring at the ground, breathing like he had lost all of his senses and looking somewhere between angry, indignant, and ashamed. 

"Jesus," Duo whispered.

Clenching his teeth, Damion turned from all of them, looking back over the room. He looked like a man who had had his heart cut open, and even more sad and furious now that he said such horrible things without thinking. But if it bothered him that much, he still merely swallowed it and lifted his head. Stopping in the middle of the room, Damion had the attention of almost everyone. "I'm not myself," he said, but he said it to the soldiers, not to Heero. "Under the law, if Gardiner is found, he is to be brought to the throne. Under the law, there's a death sentence on his head, and also the standard reward," he paused. "For treason."

It was like all the air had been sucked out of the room or turned into water. Nobody drew breath. "Anybody caught aiding a fugitive guilty of treason," Damion continued, "is also guilty by association under the law. If Julia Bureun is found, she too, is to be brought to the throne on the charge of treason."

Audrey's felt strangled. The punishment for treason was always death, and since Gardiner was a citizen of Taravren, he was indeed guilty, and if Julia had aided in his escape, she was too, under the law. The only thing that could save either of them from such a judgement was a royal pardon from the King of Taravren. And there was no King or Taravren, and wouldn't be for another week. But when Damion became king, would he pardon anyone, even Julia? Could he?

_Julia, what have you done?_

"Damion," she called out, biting her lip. 

He turned, looking cold and warn and grief-stricken. "I'm tired," he said, and the way he said it made him sound like he was on the verge of collapse. Maybe he was. "Take me home. I just want to go home."

Please Please review!


	27. Matters at Home

Temper the Soul

Chapter 27

By Zapenstap

They ordered a plane in to fly him back to Taravren, for which Damion was grateful. The air-conditioned private cabin was a lot more comfortable than any place he had been in a long time. He sat alone on cushioned seat that was something like a sofa, except that it was attached to the inside wall of the plane, staring at nothing with his hands in his lap and his head resting against the wall. The shutters to the outside had been drawn. His eyes still stung and watered and he didn't think he was ready for excessive sunlight. There was nothing more frustrating than being unable to see, and constantly having to blink away tears. He thanked God he had not really lost his eyes. He still wondered why he hadn't.

_Julia._

He knew what she had done and why she had done it; he just didn't know how to feel about it.  It had been for him, but he still felt hurt and betrayed and confused. If she was going to behave that way, why not just wait for Chang to arrest the man and then let Damion kill him? He would feel so much better if he had been allowed to slit the man's throat. The image of spilling Gardiner's blood made him feel better.

Those kinds of thoughts scared him a little, but he couldn't stop them. He knew he had frightened Audrey, maybe everyone, but the images calmed him down. Every princely lesson and godly principle he had ever learned cried out against it, but the pain in his heart overwhelmed those voices. He needed to do something, he needed to act, and fighting or killing had the appropriate amount of emotional outpour he needed. But now he couldn't. The guard who had bruised him was already dead; he had seen his body on the ground, and Julia had stolen away his real target. There was no one left to kill. They should all be thankful he didn't pick any random replacement. Everyone who followed Gardiner was guilty, but he couldn't make himself go that far.

He knew it was wrong, but everything that happened since he came out to the plains was wrong. Manny being dead was wrong. Himself in a prison, beaten at regular intervals, was wrong. Julia helping his enemy escape, sleeping with the enemy to help him escape, was wrong. She had to have done that. She probably enjoyed it too. And Audrey. Audrey had also slept with Gardiner, though she claimed not to remember.

He closed his eyes. He had to stop thinking that way. She had no reason to lie to him and she was a victim. She said she loved him. How long had he waited to hear that? It was wrong to keep her at a distance, to blame her for any of this. He knew that, but his anger kept flying in directions he didn't intend. What he had said to Heero, or maybe just the way he had said it, that hurt too, like so much was hurting, but it also had felt good. For a moment he had felt in control again, powerful, like he had reclaimed some of his balance, found a focal point, and if it was painful at least he was doing it to himself and not having it done to him. It still felt wrong. His conscience told him the difference. That sick feeling inside, that feeling that all was not right, that somewhere he had made a mistake… he had always listened to it before, and it was screaming at him now. But he rationalized that Heero had deserved those words. Yes, he had come for him in a dangerous place, but that was nothing to a gundam pilot. He was sure the man had barely broken a sweat to retrieve a tattered and abused prince from a cellar beneath a lonely house. Maybe that was unfair too, but he couldn't think straight. What Heero had said about Manny, the cold, cruel way he had confirmed something Damion half believed wasn't really true had felt like a second stab wound in his side and he had fought back the only way he could.

"Damion?"

He looked up to see Audrey, still dressed in those white silk pants and blouse, walk into his private cabin from the main room. Two men followed her in, men who had come with the plane from Taravren. He recognized his physician and his tailor absently. Audrey made room for them to come in with their materials and close the door.

The sight of her eased him somewhat. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, so cool and composed again now that they were in public. For awhile, in that dungeon, he had seen a frightened, affectionate and vulnerable side of her. He still liked it most when she smiled or laughed, but he couldn't think of anything funny to say right now. He attempted to smile, watching the way her dark hair curled around her cheeks in the heat. Her skin reminded him of white rose petals. Those were the kind of flowers he wanted to get her. White roses, dark stemmed with few leaves, but lots of thorns. Maybe that would amuse her. He loved her smile. 

The only dampener was that he had learned that the Council Lords had found out about her past with Gardiner.  She knew it too.  They had been told when they boarded the plane and talked to Iselin through a vid-screen.  They knew she was not a virgin first choice, and perhaps even considered that it consorting with the enemy, though in the past.   He would have to discuss it with them.  Knowing they knew, he wasn't sure it was still permissible to make her his wife.  

"You can't go back into the city dressed like that, Prince Damion," his tailor said pleasantly, as if he couldn't see the bruises on his face. Damion had gotten to take a look at them in the mirror and had almost broken the glass with his fist from humiliation. As his tailor began laying out a new outfit for him, complete with shined shoes and silver cuffs, Damion's physician kindly asked that he remove his tattered coat and shirt so that he might be examined. They were both very professional and blank-faced about the matter, for which Damion was grateful after so many looks of shock and pity, but when he shrugged off his shirt, even the doctor shook his head.

His chest and sides were bruised purple and a dull, sickly green.  Old healing bruises were overlapped by newer ones. There was a small slash or two on his arms as well, and dried blood on his skin. It was Audrey he shifted his gaze toward, noting her expression. He was afraid she would turn away, but she didn't. It didn't even register to him that she had never seen him bare to the waist before, or anything less than fully clothed. He wasn't attractive right now and he wished she would stop staring. She looked like she was on the verge of speaking, or even crying, but she retained her calm and her silence. 

His physician examined him and then smiled. "Banged up, but luckily nothing appears broken. We will have to do an x-ray to see if you have any fractured ribs for certain, but I don't think it's has bad as it could be. I have a salve for the bruises that will speed up their healing. You should be right as rain in a little while. I think what you need most is nutrition, lots of water and some sleep."

He had already had food and water. It was the first thing requested when he got on the plane. 

The doctor and tailor bowed out after he thanked them.

"We will be landing in the next half hour," Audrey told him.

"Then I had better get ready," he replied almost on top of her. He didn't want to talk right now.

It must have occurred to her that to do this he would have to completely undress. Flushing, she walked out of the room hastily. He tried not to think about the decision he was going to have to make about her.  He had to make the best choice for himself and for the nation and it had little to do with the way he felt about her, if he could even sort that out at all.  It would be something he would have to discuss with the Council Lords.  The wedding was on until he said differently, and he might have to say differently.

When the plane landed, the airstrip was practically flooded with reporters when they landed and Damion walked out of the plane dressed in silver gray from head to toe. From the main cabin, Taravren soldiers formed something like a solid wall around him and Audrey, shielding him from sight. The reporters were told by his publicists that he was tired and would speak to the press at a later date. Beyond the reporters, lining the airway, were people, all kinds of people, but he couldn't see them through the human wall. Ten feet and he was being helped into a limo, Audrey just behind him. Once inside, he could look out the tinted windows, amazed. Taravrens, his people, lined the streets all the way back to the palace. It was the same as when he had left.

The palace gates opened to admit his limo, but closed after he had entered. When he emerged, the Council Lords descended from the door to meet him. He had never seen them look so relieved. 

"I request attendance on my mother," Damion said before they could open their mouths. They stopped in surprise at the bluntness of his request, but there was nothing they could do except nod and part in order to let him inside. Moving quickly, he walked up the step and through the door, ignoring them. He noticed that Lady Alice had taken hold of Audrey out of the corner of his eye and that she replied to whatever she was asked hastily, but he didn't think much about it. He wanted to be alone for awhile anyway.

Being home both relieved and horrified him. Everything was familiar and everything was different. When he saw Terese standing alone at the bottom of the stairs with several suitcases scattered around her feet, he remembered why. Everything here had Manny's signature on it. His heart lurched, the world spun and he fought to not start thinking about all the things that were going to feel empty like this for the rest of his life.

Terese bit her lip, her eyes puffy from tears and her face splotched. She moved toward him mechanically, jerkily forcing her limbs to operate. A moment later she was standing just in front of him, looking at him in the face and then looking away again. Her eyes kept drifting toward him and darting away, as if she could not make up her mind what she wanted to focus on.

"Damion, I'm so glad you're back," she said, but came out as a barely constrained wail, loaded with unshed tears. She shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut, wild black hair flying. She spoke in subdued whisper, but spoke urgently. "I can't stay here, in Taravren I mean. I… I'm resigning. I have family elsewhere and I… I just can't."

He only looked at her, feeling strangely quiet and dead inside. Terese was leaving Taravren. Everthing felt unreal, but he knew now it was really happening. It felt real when Heero told him he had buried Manny in a forgotten field. "I'm going to miss you," he said softly. "Take care of yourself."

She lifted a hand to her face, covering her nose as tears leaked out of her eyes. She looked so fragile, like a glass doll that might break if he blew on it. Gently, he took her into an embrace and she began sobbing into his chest. He had never realized how small she was before. Were all girls this small? Had Manny thought she was small? Her fire and energy usually made her seem like an explosion or a loose cannon, but he supposed all the emotion and energy that burned in joy would also pour out in grief.

"I'm sorry!" she cried, choking and pulling out of his embrace. "I'm going to miss the wedding and everything, I know, but I just can't bear it here. There are so many ghosts. I _am_ glad you are all right. I was so worried and…"

"I understand," he said, and smiled at her, wiping a tear away from her cheek. "Thank you. Good luck."

He ordered some of the soldiers to help his former staff manager to the airport and dismissed the rest. When Terese had picked up her bags and left the palace, still casting glances over her shoulder, he kept moving, glad to be alone again, and feeling a little strange about it too. 

After winding his way through the palace to the East Wing, he stopped before his mother's apartments and took a deep breath. Straightening his coat, he knocked on the door and was called inside. Softly, he opened the door and shut it. 

"Hi, mom," he said quietly, like he often had when he expected a reprimand.

Her rooms were cool and darkened. His mother sat at a small polished wood table, writing on a sheet of stationery under a lamp light. When he came in, she set down her pen and stood. A moment later he was folded in an embrace like he was ten, having his hair and backed stroked like a child. "I'm okay, mom," he said, but his voice quavered.

She released him and held him back by the shoulders, inspecting his face. He tried not to feel like a child, but he couldn't help it. 

"You look like you've been in a fight," she said testily. "You used to come home looking like this when you were a bit smaller if you don't remember."

"That was quite some time ago," he said, looking away. He was quickly losing his sense of power again, feeling weak and helpless. The reminder of the fights he used to get in didn't help; they were usually with Manny.

"Not that long ago," she muttered, and stroked his hair. "I'm just glad to have you returned to me. No one here could sleep or eat since we found out." Her eyes shimmered and her expression changed, her eyes softening. "Damion, I'm so sorry. Manny meant a lot to everyone here. We all loved him, but I know what he meant to you."

He tried not to cry and he couldn't help that either. All he could manage was to look away, blinking tears from his eyes. "I don't want to talk about this," he choked, and firmly willed his eyes to dry up. 

"Damion…"

"No."

Her mouth had set in a disapproving line, but she stepped back and folded her hands. Then she just looked at him, like he was a prince instead of her son. "I am relieved you have returned," she said. "I yield the authority of Taravren back over to you."

He swallowed nervously, hesitating. "Thank you, mother," he said, and kissed her cheek. "I'm glad to be back."

We walked hurriedly to his rooms, his mind buzzing with emotions he didn't want to feel, grief he didn't want to feel, anger he didn't want to feel. When he came to his room he shed half of his clothes and his shoes and left them where they lay. His own bed had never looked so big or comfortable or clean or completely designed to sleep in. He fell on it heavily and refused to let himself be afraid of closing his eyes. He was home again and nothing could hurt him here. Here, he was Regent. Here, he was a Prince, almost a King. He would be crowned in a few days. He had to talk to Audrey. Heero. No, there was nothing to say to Heero. He had only been kidding himself that he could make friends, especially with someone like that, though it was Heero's oblivion to accepted social forms (like princehood) that Damion had once thought in his favor.

When he fell into a deep, much-needed sleep, his dreams were fitful.

*****

Heero leaned against the wall in the main entryway of the palace in Taravren, his arms crossed. Damion had left them all behind in a plane, though several hours later Relena had called in another to fly them back here. He and Relena (and Duo too) had meant to follow Damion, to board with him and try and talk things out, but the Taravren soldiers stopped them. Some of them were men Heero had fought with, but when he tried to persuade them to let him on board, they simply said it was the prince's desire to fly home with Audrey only, no exceptions. Heero couldn't believe it. Relena couldn't believe it. Duo thought Damion might have gone insane.

Duo and Relena were both with him now.

"I keep thinking I get a room here if I just show up," Duo muttered. "But we're like tourists now."

The Palace staff had offered them beverages and guides, but for the large part they were ignored, though a few sympathetic looks were shot their way by people who remembered them.  Heero wondered if even Terese would have settled them against Damion's wishes, but they had learned that she had left.

When they finally arrived in Taravren they learned that Damion had been asleep for almost ten hours, and when he awoke he had been wild.   He fired servants, ordered old furniture thrown out and replaced with new, reprimanded his guardsmen and his staff and most strangely, ignored the advice of every Council Lord that spoke to him. They all advised the same thing, Heero had learned, that Damion arrange to take a break to grieve and recover from his experience. It was unlike the Council Lords to be so generous and unlike Damion to deny them point-blank. But in fact, Damion was not doing anything all that extraordinary. He was using powers he had always had (and must have known he had); he just never used them before.

"What's he trying to prove?" Duo said. "That Gardiner's right by showing how flawed this kind of government can be?"

"I don't think so," Relena said. "Audrey was right. He's had his control taken away from him and he's just trying to get it back."

"But firing people?" Duo said. "Isn't that really extreme?"

"Word has it the people he fired deserved it. He just didn't…before."  He was too nice then.

"Man," Duo said. "What he said to you, Heero… How can you be so calm?"

Heero looked away, watching the servants carrying linen tablecloths down to the washroom.  He shouldn't let the things Damion said affect him, but he felt it anyway, to the point where there was no use denying his emotions.  He was upset. As angry as it had made him, he was more hurt, and concerned, which felt very strange to him.  "He was right about some things," he said slowly. "Maybe he was right about all of it."

"That's nonsense," Relena said. "I feel sorry for him, but Damion was out of line. We came all that way for him and he treated us like…"

"He treated me like a soldier," Heero said quietly. "He's right. We aren't peers. I've always felt uncomfortable here and I've always resented Damion for being…who he is. I think he always knew that. It didn't matter how nice he was about it."

"Heero…" Relena said, sounding amazed. 

"I'm not saying it was right," Heero added. No, because it had it hurt and made him angry. "I'm just saying it makes sense."

"Then I'm guilty too," Relena said. "I left first."

"Because I made you cry."

Relena sighed. "If anyone, it's me who should take the blame. I had to kiss him and ruin everything and then I told you you weren't Damion's friend."

"That was my fault too."

Duo snickered. "Sorry," he said, "but you two are really funny. Trying to make each other feel better by making yourselves feel worse! If I recall, Damion wasn't too upset about any of that stuff _when it happened_. I really think he was just reaching for something to be mad about. And, you know, he might pull out of it okay. He's gone out of his way for years to be really nice and that isn't going to completely evaporate in a few days."

"But he's so angry," Relena said quietly. "And he won't grieve. It's Manny that's really upsetting him, not us, and he won't grieve. He looks terrible."

Duo shrugged his shoulders and leaned his head back against the wall. "I hate to say it, but he looked kind of like you, Heero."

Heero was silent. Since Damion had rejected him as a friend he had thought about a lot of things he never really thought about before. He was beginning to understand that Relena wasn't the only person he took for granted, or the only person he had hurt by being callous and mysterious. Duo and the other pilots were used to it, they had seen how much he had changed, but Damion had always found it odd. The fact was that Heero valued his association with Damion. He liked coming to Taravren. He liked talking to Damion and it had nothing to do with his being a prince. Maybe that was why Damion had allowed it. He had always thought that his privileges here were a result of helping Damion through Clara's Rebellion two years ago, that Damion invited him out of an obligation of gratitude and also because he liked to invite Relena over, but maybe that's not how it was. Maybe Damion just… liked him. Maybe he had been working much harder then Heero had been aware to become friends. Until now.

"I need to talk to him," Heero said, pushing himself away from the wall.

"He doesn't want to talk to you, Heero," Duo said as if it were a newsflash Heero hadn't heard yet. "If you try he'll probably just hit you, or more likely have you thrown in jail. I was always afraid he was going to do that. Especially when you hit him that last time. Man, I thought that was it."

"It doesn't matter," Heero said. "In fact, it might help."

"What are you talking about?" Duo demanded.

"It might help if we fight," Heero said. "But either way I have to go talk to him."

"They'll keep you out, Heero," Duo protested in almost a sing-song voice.  "You won't make it within twenty feet!"

"I didn't say it would be easy to arrange.  It might take a few days, but I'll try to manage it before the wedding."

Heero was off the wall and around the corner before Duo, blinking his big eyes in confusion, could comment further. As Heero started to stride away, he felt both of Relena's hands clasp his and turned around.

He was surprised when he looked into Relena's face, straight as a board except for the love in her eyes, and saw absolute agreement in her expression. For a moment his skin prickled. It was like she was turning into him. Or was he turning into her? Of course, he liked her well enough not to mind so much. Perhaps that ought to be a requirement for love. Leaning over, he kissed her softly on the side of the mouth and caught her eyes as she pulled away. "Not mad?" he whispered.

"No," she said. "Proud. But don't hurt each other." Smiling, she delicately smoothed the lapels of his coat with the flat palm of her hands, lowering her eyes. "I've missed you and I'm going to want you in full health later."

Heero couldn't help smiling back a little.  "Hmm.  Maybe Duo's right.  He won't see me now."

"Then wait a day or two," Relena suggested.

Ducking, he kissed his wife on the mouth. She smiled into his lips as she wrapped her arms around his neck as he lifted her off her feet. When she started to make little exasperated noises, Heero set Relena carefully down on her toes. "Hopefully," he said into her ear. "Audrey will be able to help Damion like you've helped me." He played with her hair idly, tangling it in his fingers. "Why don't we book a room in a hotel in the city until after Damion's wedding?" he said. "We didn't get a honeymoon and I think we need the privacy."

She smiled at him. "And then home," she said. "Finally. I love you, Heero."

*****

They had only been back a day in Taravren and night had fallen when Audrey learned that a decision was to be made.

Sitting in a hard-backed chair in a lounge full of soft couches, open windows and a cold fireplace, Audrey had to face facts. Damion had claimed full power in Taravren with a only a ceremony left to formalize it. That ceremony was supposed to take place at his wedding, but it didn't have to. Defying the Council Lords as he had been, if Damion told them flatly that he wasn't ready to marry, or if he simply did not want to marry Audrey, they would be forced to allow him the right to that decision. It was, Audrey understood now, a decision Damion always could have made. The truth was that for the most part Damion and the Council Lords saw eye to eye. The Council Lord's rulings were suggestions, advice, and always had been, but the executive decision was the Regent's alone. He usually agreed with them, bided by them, because they knew what they were doing, but now he was taking power.

And he did not have to marry her if he did not want to. 

The wedding date was set, but it could very easily be changed to a crowning ceremony alone. Of course Damion still had to marry eventually, to provide an heir to take his place, and the sooner the better as he had no brothers, but if Damion did not want to marry Audrey, he did not have to.

The Council Lords were divided. Most thought she had shown great potential to be a Queen to equal Damion's mother or better, but others thought her entanglements with Damion's experience too great. She didn't know how they had found out about her association with Gardiner. Perhaps Gardiner had told him, but she knew the truth of her past was known to them, though they had agreed to keep the knowledge secret. Still, many thought a Queen should not have a secret like that. And too, the bride of a Taravren prince was supposed to be a pure-blood virgin from a respected family. God knows, Clara had already tainted her blood connections, but her own transgression was worse in that it was her own fault, or appeared to be, and a dishonor to her husband. She knew Damion was being urged to send her home, quietly, so as not to make a scene, but the decision lay with him. And she didn't know what decision he would make. She felt, or thought, or hoped, that he still loved her, but that might not matter in the end. His anger and his sense of always doing the right thing were in conflict, but he might decide that the right thing to do was send her home and forget about her. She really couldn't blame him if he did.  The way he looked at her now was so confusing, like he wanted to crush her in equal amounts of love and hatred.

But she wanted him.  She wanted him to again be the man who had made her smile when she had been sad and lonely for so long.  He needed an heir and she wanted to give him a child, or maybe several.  As there were few children where she had grown up, she had never thought of herself in a maternal fashion, but the thought of Damion's children was a pleasant, slightly bewildering thought.  Would they have dark hair and light eyes like him? Would they be cool and quiet like her, or have shining eyes and loud laughs?  She had never thought the idea of holding a small child could be lovely, but she found herself contemplating it, and contemplating a life with Damion as well, one that included his bed as well as the responsibilities of behind his wife. If he still wanted her.  She didn't know if she was ready—the idea of sex still frightened her immensely on some basic level—but she wanted to be.  If nothing else, she wanted to help him recover from this last, terrible week.

Currently, he was talking with the Council Lords about the wedding.  They wanted to know now, and so Damion had closeted himself with the Council Lords for almost two hours to the minute, discussing Audrey, discussing their future, and it could go either way.

She waited for his summons, fidgeting nervously with her dress, a pale silver blue, wishing she had told him a thousand things she had never said, wishing they had made love already, wishing even that she carried his child, anything that might make the outcome of these agonizing hours more favorable.  The dreadful truth was that he had been unable to forgive her as much as he cared about her, and it weighted down her hopes.  If it had been anyone else except Gardiner, it would have been an easy thing for him to do, but the thought of her in the arms of the man who had scarred him so deeply hurt too great.  No matter how much love lay between them, Damion would be her second, not her first, and she couldn't seem to make him understand that to her, the first didn't count at all.  To him, it mattered, perhaps because he simply wanted to have that place, and perhaps because he thought he deserved it on a technical level.  She hoped something like that wouldn't cause him to dismiss her.  She hoped it.  

A knock came at the door and a girl dressed in palace livery entered.  "Lady Audrey Veron?"

"Hello, Mary," Audrey said, rising from her chair.

"Lady Audrey, Prince Damion is waiting for you if you would follow me."

She swallowed and looked away, feeling suddenly shaky.  But she forced herself to regain composure and look the girl in the eye.

Mary lowered her eyes as Audrey nodded assent.  Taking a deep breath, she gathered her skirts up in her hand and followed Mary out of the room and down the darkened hallways. Her chest heaved, though she tried to keep the sound of her breaths subdued.  As a result, the bodice of her dress, tight and low-cut, was possibly more distracting than it might otherwise have been.  It was actually one of the dresses Damion had had made for her and Terese had designed.  It was beautiful, but she knew that dresses of any sort would not move Damion's mind.  She couldn't believe how ridiculous her thoughts were.  Was this love?  This desperate tangle of doubt and flutter was not like her.  This desire to please someone and the desire to be swept away by someone was not like her.  She was terrified, in so many ways, terrified.

_If he turns me away I will not be able to help crying, she thought with horror, and another voice rebelled.  __I do not cry!  But she knew she would.  __I will simply go home, she thought bitterly__, and reinstate myself in my old lifestyle.  Her heart fluttered.  She did not want to go home and be alone and sad again.  She wanted Damion's arms around her. _

"Here, Lady," Mary said, gesturing to a oak panel door.  It was the door to a larger study, the one Damion liked the read in when he could snatch time by himself.  There was a bookshelf and a desk like a small library, containing all his favorite books, and also a couch and a coffee table and a window with burgundy draperies.  Audrey tried to envision Damion standing in that room, waiting for her, tried to imagine the room and the furniture and his expression.  Taking a deep breath, she opened the door.

He looked up when she entered, shutting the door behind her.  She should say something about having been summoned, but she couldn't say anything.  It was difficult to make those formalities work with him anymore and she was caught up in the sight of him.  It was strange and lovely to see him dressed in clothes that were new and lovelier to see his face cleaned and his hair combed and his eyes bright and alert.  The bruises were still there, but they were beginning to fade a little.  He almost looked like he always had.  Except that he wasn't smiling.  Instead, he was looking at her with something like sorrow.  Her heart clenched.

"Hi," he said without energy, the word escaping his mouth like smoke.  His eyes sparkled as they slid off of her and he turned his head toward the couch.  "Do you want to sit with me?"

"No," she said. "I'd rather stand."  There was a moment of silence.  "What did you decide?"  

"I promised to marry you," he began slowly, "and you deserve to have that promised honored."  He lowered his head, his eyes sweeping the ground in front of his shoes. 

_But…She could scarcely breathe, yet she watched him with a relative feeling of calm._

Abruptly he raised his head, as if shaking off some unpleasant thought.  "Please," he said, gesturing to the sofa.  Trying to stifle the butterflies in her stomach, she came willingly forward, guided by his hand, but stopped at the back of the couch, her hand seeking something solid in the texture of the leather.

"Damion," she said, turning around, hoping to say something that would… she didn't know what.  He was following so close behind her that they touched, arms and legs brushing.  She flushed. Hastily, he stepped back and she leaned against the back of the couch, unable to look him in the eye. 

He swallowed. "Is it a good reason?" he asked her.  "Marrying someone because you promised to?"

She wasn't sure what he meant by that.  Was he saying he was marrying her and that was why, or merely asking a question, perhaps leading to the reason for his denial of that promise?  "I wish it were more," she said slowly.  "I know promises sometimes dissolve when situations change, but that's not what you mean, is it?" She paused.  "I like being in love with you, and if not for that promise, maybe it would not feel as safe."

He nodded slowly.  "Safe."

"I was afraid to love, but you made it easy.  It's not really the promise," she said, "but the character of a man who makes promises intending to keep them.  That's what I never knew growing up.  My father made promises he broke, over and over.  But you are an honest man with a good heart and I believed you when you promised to take care of me even if I could not love you.  That felt real to me, more real than any declaration of love or amorous feeling because I knew that without those things, you would still be a man I respected, and so I think I will always love you."

He closed his eyes, looking like she had given him a tonic or poured cool water over his head.  "Do you still think I'm a good man?" he asked. 

"Yes," she said, and felt her eyes becoming hot with unshed tears.  "I know you are hurting, but I believe in you.  If anything, I think your soul has been tempered by this trial.  When I first came here I believed that you were a little immature and could not fully understand me, but so I thought all men.  That's gone now.  You have aged ten years in a few days, but I think you will youthen again with a little joy.  I know it is impossible to get over Manny.  I don't want you to.  You will always love him, but you have to try to let him go, even if it takes a lot of time.   I don't want you to be burned in this fire.  I'd rather you were strengthened by it.  I will help you in any way I can.  You are a good man, and I do love you."  She paused.  "Do you love me?"

"You know I do."

She lowered her eyes, waiting to hear what decision he had made, for all they had said up to this point was known to some degree by both parties already.

"I want you to be my wife," Damion said.  "I love you and I don't think there is another woman out there who can understand me after this.  Maybe there is, but I don't want to look for another.  It's just…"

She lifted her head, feeling hopeful, but not sure.  "It's not what happened with Gardiner that has made me afraid of loving you," she said.  "I admit I am afraid of sex, a little, but I want that too, I do.  It might be hard the first time but I…" she bit her lip, caught off guard by the way he lifted his head, staring at her with those eyes of his.  She rushed on haphazardly.  "My real fears are of love lasting, Damion, of being part of something that is a misery to everyone involved.  My family is a misery.  I hate my father.  I resent my mother.  But somehow I find myself wanting your children and wanting you and wishing I could erase all the things that I am afraid of.  You made that happen.  I fell in love with you because you made me feel like something other than an object of affection."

"You are," he said, sounding surprised, even stunned.  "I love much more than I can clearly explain and it goes beneath the feelings I have for you right now. You will make a beautiful and powerful Queen.  It's just…"

"Will I?" she asked, and bit her lips to stop the tears.

"And a good mother," he added.  "If you want to be."

"Yes," she said, as if answering a question, and it felt so different from the last time she had accepted his proposal of marriage, less grand and more real.  

He smiled at her, a sad smile.  She recognized it.  She smiled just like that sometimes.  "I've changed," he said.  "You were right about that."  She knew.  He was still cold, still lacking the luster and life and kindness that she had loved most about him.  His expression was dark, almost frightening, a seeming contrast to the word he had just said to her, like his head knew he loved her, but all the black emotions made it difficult to perceive. "Sometimes…" He stopped.  "I know I love you," he said, "but I'm not fit to right now."

"If you could just let go," she whispered.

"I can't," he said.  "It hurts too much.  Every minute something reminds me of Manny and the way he died.  I woke up and realized I don't know how to make coffee.  I've never picked out my own clothes before, Audrey.  I couldn't find things I'm used to using every day.  I'm angry.  I want to find Gardiner and kill him.  I know it's wrong, but I want to see him bleed."

"I wish you wouldn't say that."

"I know.  I'm sorry.  It's the way I feel."

"You have to let it go," she whispered.  "You have to stop hating him."

"I know," he said, but he didn't sound like it mattered much.  "You're right.  I can't love you properly.  Whenever I think of touching you I think of him touching you and it makes me…" He hedged, his eyes darkening. 

Her tongue clove to the roof of her mouth.  Violent.  It made him violent, violent with her.  She couldn't speak. 

"When it comes to it," he assured her slowly, "I'll be really gentle, I promise.  I don't know what you expect or what to expect myself even, but I can hope to do that much."

"You need to stop hating him," she said a little breathily.

"I wish I could."

"The Council Lords," she said.  "They are okay with your decision?"

"Yes," he said.  "They like you.  Something you said when I was…taken must have convinced them of your caliber.  They worried that I would be dishonored, but my honor is my own affair in this matter.  The choice was mine and I want to marry you."

She couldn't help smiling, just a little.  "I'm so glad."  She wished he would kiss her, but he didn't move an inch in her direction.  She had been craving a kiss since he had left for the war it was hard to accept this distance.  But with his omission she knew why he was refraining from touching her.  He had to let go of Gardiner before the wedding.  He had to.

"What about Heero?" she asked to change the subject.  "What you said to him…"

"I know," he said darkly.  "But it doesn't matter, Audrey.  It's better this way.  We won't get in each other's way anymore."

"Damion, you should apologize.  Talk to him…"

"No," he said.  "I don't want to.  It was wrong to say but it was true."

"You're taking it out on him.  It's unfair.  It's Gardiner you hate, not Heero."

"Please," he begged her imploringly.  "I almost feel like I used to when I'm with you.  When I'm not with you it's hard not to shout at everyone.  Can we drop Gardiner and Heero both?"

She wished they really could drop it, but that's not what he meant.  He wanted her to just let it fester. "All right," she said, but she couldn't help feeling sad when she should feel overjoyed.  She was going to marry Prince Damion, whom she loved, but if he couldn't rid himself of his anger and _grieve, she was afraid she might be marrying a man who would break down when his fury ran out._

Thank you for reading!  I was thrilled by the return of my reviewers and absolutely ecstatic by those of you who reviewed who never have before.  Even if you were waiting for the end to review, it means a lot to me to get them early simply so I know how that chapter fared, knowing what your reaction is on a chapter-by-chapter basis.  But thank you thank you thank you ALL for any feedback you have given me or intend to.  I really, really do appreciate it.  FYI: this story ends at 31 chapters.   J


	28. To Extract the Shadows

Temper the Soul

Chapter 28

By zapenstap

Damion lay on his bed panting, eyes wide open, trying to breathe through the constriction in his throat. Another night's sleep and another nightmare.  He should be getting used to them by now. Life right now was a nightmare. Sometimes he couldn't tell when he was waking and when he was dreaming. Manny was in his dreams again, looking so normal and unbothered, asking him what was wrong. "Are you okay, Master Damion? Do you need anything?" And then he grinned, his brown eyes flashing. Manny asked him if he would be able to go riding that day, but before Damion could reply, there was a sound like a shotgun.  Damion always knew before it went off that Manny's face had been the target, but in the dreams he never died right away.  Instead he just bled and bled, the blood getting all over everything while he stared at Damion with eyes that begged the Prince of Taravren to do something.  But there were shackles on Damion's wrists and somewhere Gardiner was smiling that half-amused, disinterested smile.

Again he had slept late into the morning.  No one came to wake him up early anymore.  Maybe they wanted him to sleep and maybe they were afraid.  His servants waited on his every whim now, doing things twice as fast as they ever had and still looking terrified that he would rebuke them for inadequacy, but few were willing to do the little things Manny used to do.  Some things needed to be done, of course, and other people had been sent to do some of the tasks Manny used to perform every morning, but Damion couldn't stand it.  He let others pour his coffee and lay out his schedules with tense hands and gritted teeth, but often he had to send them away.  And they always looked so hurt.  He knew they thought they were doing something wrong whenever he objected to a task, but he couldn't stand to see that void filled.  Rationally, he knew he was overreacting, that certain things had to be done and it wasn't as if Manny were being sealed in a box and forgotten, but it felt that way.

It was probably because he had finally visited Manny's family last night. It was hard to meet his father in the eye and he knew they were disturbed by his behavior. It just felt so wrong to him that they would try to comfort him when he came to pay his respects. The whole house was unusually quiet and oppressive, though somehow they had managed to smile at him. Manny's mother seemed to think he was suffering more than Manny's real family, but Damion didn't understand that. They told him they would be glad to have him over for dinner and talk about it, that it might help if he spent some time with other people who were grieving, but he couldn't look her in the eye. Manny's youngest sister seemed to think it was his fault her brother was dead and Damion couldn't blame her for feeling that way. Sometimes he felt it was his fault too, but he couldn't think of anything he could have said or done to prevent it. Sometimes he was glad that Manny had at least died instantly and nobly, trying to protect him, and sometimes it just made him feel sick. He went home the way he came, unescorted, but no one said anything about it when he returned. They didn't dare.

He needed something, anything, to distract him from this pain.  He wanted Audrey's company if anyone's. Maybe he just wanted her.  He was lonely.  He was lonely and sorrowful and feeling as if his control had been wrested from him.  When he thought about her he became inflamed by lust.  He missed her presence when she wasn't there, but he also just wanted her in a very basic, animalistic way. He wanted sex and he wanted to possess her.  He remembered the way her breast felt in his hand, soft and round and warm. He wanted to touch her again but she was afraid. He wanted to make love to a woman, even rough love if that's how it had to be, but her fears made him hesitate and his own aggression frightened him. Sometimes he just wanted to get it over with. Other times he wished it could be perfect.

He hadn't felt this terrible since that first day he came home.

"Master Damion?" said a small voice came into his bedroom from out in the hall.  It was a girl's voice. 

The girl's voice registered vaguely in his head as belonging to Mary, that young girl who had seemed particularly upset upon his return to Taravren. He knew why too. She was one of those girls who thought she was in love with a prince.  Confused, he got out of bed and called back to her.  It was a mistake to let her in, but he was bidding her enter before he could stop himself.

She was a cute thing, blonde with lovely eyes and high cheekbones.  As he walked out of the bedchamber and came toward her in the larger part of his rooms, she smiled shyly at him. The way she was looking at him, even if she was doing it unconsciously, made his blood boil. The clothes she was wearing didn't help. Her top was low with sleeves that hung off the shoulders and laces over the bodice that begged to be untied. She wore a skirt that was sheer and clingy, wrapping around her legs when she moved and between her skirt and her top he could see a nice strip of bare skin. Maybe she didn't mean anything by it, but all he saw when he looked at her was a woman who wanted to please him. He had the sudden urge to ask her to lock the door and invite her to his bed, which was absolutely insane.

"What are you doing here?" he asked. He remembered now what Terese had said about girls trying to get into his rooms when he had invited all of the eligible women to the palace. Surely this wasn't something like that.

"I came to see if you needed anything," she said with such innocence that he thought it couldn't possibly be real.

He remembered what he said to Audrey, about being afraid of hurting her if he slept with her in this state, this wild, angry, scared and hurting state of mind. With the thought of Audrey two things occurred to him: how doubly wrong his other thought had been and the contrasting idea that if he used this girl first… _I must be mad. _

"Prince Damion?" she asked.  "Do…do you need anything?"

The way she was looking at him, her lips painted and slightly parted, seemed so suggestive.  "No," he told her hoarsely. He had to clamp his teeth shut to keep from asking her if she wanted wine or anything. _Anything at all._"I want to be left alone."  

"Oh," she said, sounding hurt and confused.  She had a crush on him. She was trying to be nice and she had dressed up hoping for a kind word from him to build her confidence. All she wanted was for him to think she was attractive, but she didn't know what damage she could really do when he was like this, or how attractive she really looked right now.

He was going to be married in two days to a woman he loved. "You didn't do anything wrong," he told Mary softly, swallowing. "I just can't abide company right now."

"I'm sorry," she said, still sounding like a wounded animal, and quietly let herself out of his room.

He sat down in a chair heavily, his elbows on his knees and his head sinking into his hands. He kept making mistakes. He couldn't sort out his emotions. There were too many of them.  He recalled Audrey to his mind, but there was more turmoil there than anywhere else except thoughts of Manny. Surely that was not how it was supposed to be. But it hadn't always been like that. God, he was going to marry her in two days. They would stand at an altar amidst all those candles and exchange rings while both of them were crowned in front of thousands of people. And then he would be king of Taravren and she Queen, but their marriage wouldn't be binding until it was consummated. She said she was afraid. She thought it might be hard the first time. One sentence like that opened a floodgate of images and hopes and fears for him. He had the terrifying realization that maybe they both weren't ready, but that it didn't matter because he couldn't stop time.

He wanted to kill Gardiner. He wanted to stab _his_ eyes out, take _his_ girl, hurt _him until he cried out in pain from bruised ribs and a broken spirit and kill _his_ friends, if he had any. Audrey had said it was terrible when revenge like that happened.  It sounded true.  Damion tried to imagine Abel Gardiner bruised and beaten on the floor at his feet. He tried to imagine himself shooting a bullet through his forehead. He couldn't tell how he felt. Sick, mostly. Sick, but also vengeful. _

He was so confused about everything.

He needed some air.

Getting up, he went to his closet and searched until he found his riding boots and gloves. He didn't bother with any other riding equipment. He just wanted to be outside and on his own. He hadn't ridden in ages, and even though he would be going alone instead of with Manny, he could take Manny's horse, a gift Damion had given him years ago. Well, it seemed all his gifts were returned if Manny's family didn't want them. 

He had to stop hating Gardiner and get a hold of himself. He knew he had to, but he couldn't make sense of anything. Taravren was beginning to stifle him as much as his prison under Gardiner's house. It didn't help that he knew it was all in his head.

*****

"Heero?" Relena murmured, sitting up when he did. He had swung his legs off the side of the bed and just sat there with the sheet of the bed twisted around his lap and his hands pressed into the mattress on either side of his legs. Relena crawled up behind him and rubbed his bare back, kissing his shoulders. He could smell the fresh, dry scent of her hair, warmed by the sunlight streaming in through the window.

He caught one of her hands without turning and pulled her arm over his shoulder to kiss her fingers. They curled as he did it and he felt her press the rest of her body against his back, hugging him with her head leaning against his other shoulder. "I've missed you when you were away, you know," she said.

He turned and they shared a smile. "I have to talk to Damion today," he said. "I'd like to spend all of my time with you, but this is important."

"I know," she said, touching his face. "Heero, you don't know how long I've waited to have you to myself. I have you now. I'm not going to let life get in the way and I want you to talk to Damion. Just because we're married now," she bit her lips, flushing. That sounded weird to him too, like the wedding was a dream, "doesn't mean life stops and starts anew. We have to do some shuffling, but we both have responsibilities."

He smiled at her and she looked at him strangely, as if he was hiding a secret, which he was. "Things won't be the same, Relena," he said. "I'm going to take care of you now, better than I have been, and you have to let me."

She blinked. "Take care of me?"

"Yeah," he said.

Abruptly she smiled a closed-mouthed smile that somehow seemed sweeter for being less obvious. Leaning over, he smoothed her hair back and kissed her lips softly. As the kiss deepened, he considered lying back down beside her, but there would be time for that later. Lots of time. A lifetime to hold her and love her this way and other ways lay before them both. 

Sensing a change in his mood, she broke the kiss and he got out of bed, searching for his clothes. She didn't get dressed, just watching as he pulled on his coat and stamped his feet into his shoes, the covers pulled up to her chin. She stretched luxuriously as soon as he was dressed and ready to go. He smiled at her as he turned away and felt a sense of peace in his heart that she understood so much of him that it was unnecessary to say goodbye or make promised about when he would return or that he would be careful. She used to say those things all the time, but now she trusted him to take care of himself and he would honor that expectation. His hand lingered in the doorway as he walked out of the room.

It didn't take him very long to determine that Damion had left the palace. People were talking about it constantly. Yesterday he had gone out on his own to visit Manny's family. The palace staff was aghast that the Prince of Taravren, so recently returned to them from a kidnapping that had terrified the entire country, had driven himself out into the city without an escort. They seemed particularly hung up on the idea of Damion driving a car.   Apparently, he never had before. And now he was gone again, this time on horseback (they were used to that) but still alone, and not on one of his own horses. 

After questioning the stable grooms, Heero borrowed a motorbike from one of the mechanics in the palace who was honored to have a gundam pilot use his machine, and rode out into the countryside in the direction Damion was reported to have gone. After a few minutes he caught signs of fresh tracks and followed them north to where the hills rolled and banked off into small gulches and abrupt dips in the earth. The sky was blue and empty overhead, stretching east and west like a sapphire ocean devoid of life. The ground was still wet with dew, the grass starting to get long and a brighter green than was usual for this time of year. He rode along a dirt path heavily trodden, but the farther he rode, the less traveled the path appeared and the more wild the area surrounding it.  Though the scenery was lovely, a foreboding silence stuck in the air.  It was too empty, too silent, like the life teeming in the grass was trapped beneath the ground.  Or maybe it was the remnants of Damion's bottled up rage he was sensing.

Eventually, he could no longer make out the city because of the hills and the sheer distance he had traveled. What's more, the path left by horse's hooves vanished, though the grass was bent where Damion must have left the trail and headed out into the fields. The grass was almost as high has his shins out here, the ground a little too uneven for fast riding, but by the looks of it, Damion was riding fast, dangerously so. Mixed in with the grass were little yellow and blue flowers, rising out of the ground to drink the sun's warmth amidst the green of their neighbors. The light of the sun was cold and pale. 

Heero slowed his bike, the motor protesting, and stopped it by a tree along the roadside.  The motor was too loud and unnatural for a place like this. Besides, he was afraid Damion would hear it.  The wilderness of the area seemed to press in on him. 

The sound of horse's hooves caught him by surprise. He looked up in time to see a dark shape streak out of nowhere along the horizon, coming up from the other side of the hill he was climbing. For several seconds he watched the shape of the horse gallop over the crest of the hill, outlined on all sides by the bright blue of the sky, tail and mane streaming behind. Of course there was a rider on the horse's back, and Heero had no trouble making out Damion, sitting astride the horse with his back straight and gloves hands gripping the reins, staring straight ahead of him as he rode.

The beauty of the scenery sank into a pit as he remembered why he had come here. The horse looked a part of this place, wild and powerful, its hooves thundering over the land, but Damion looked more like a blot of black against the sky. He looked dangerous, and from what Heero could make out of his expression, he looked like he was in some amount of pain.

It wasn't much of a surprise when Damion slowed the horse to a stop. It pranced a little in place, nodding its head in protest at the sudden halt when it clearly wanted to run, but Damion kept the animal under control, his head turning to look Heero full in the face with a flat, hostile expression. The bruises on his face had faded. Heero couldn't even make them out at this distance. For a while the Prince of Taravren paused, holding the reins in both hands almost like he had forgotten them, and then urged the horse down the hill toward Heero at a light canter. About four feet from Heero, he stopped, shifting his weight more than drawing the reins. The pain Heero had seen in his face was gone. He looked cold now, cold and aloof and very much like a king, except for the tenseness in his face.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Damion demanded. 

Heero stood on his own two feet, looking up at Damion from the ground, feeling more determined than small.  He had spent too much time in a gundam.  People looked like rodents from that height.  "I came to find you," Heero said, and was aware when he spoke that the tone he used was as dark and hostile as it ever had been during the war. "I thought we could talk."

Damion's gray eyes flickered, but his expression didn't change. "I thought I made myself perfectly clear before," he said. "What have you come to do? Stab me again?"  His lips curled in a smile, but his eyes were dead.  

"If that's what it takes," Heero said in an almost emotionless tone.

"I won't take it so well this time."

"It doesn't matter."

Damion maneuvered the horse backward a step of two by shifting his weight, sneering.  It looked odd on his face, that disgusted expression, and he seemed to be struggling with it.  "You don't understand how much power I have and it's none of your business how I use it or how I'm feeling.  I can't make things like they were before." His jaw clenched. "Things are not the way they were before," he said more quietly. He almost seemed to be speaking to himself by the end, his gray eyes glazing over.  "We aren't friends, Heero.  You're nothing to me."

"Come down from there and say that," Heero said, narrowing his eyes.  Approaching him deliberately, he reached out for the horse, to hold it still so he could force Damion to meet him on his feet. He was surprised when Damion snapped to attention suddenly, his eyes tightening as he shifted his weight in the saddle. The horse reared a little, dancing on its back feet. Heero shouted as one of front hooves kicked him in the wrist. He fell from the power of it and had to leap backward to avoid being trampled as the animal came down.  Shaking out his hand as he knelt, surprised it wasn't broken, he stared up at Damion in astonishment. The prince's face showed no compassion or regret. He sat in the saddle like the horse hadn't moved at all, but his eyes blazed as he stared at Heero in something like a challenging stare.

"I don't take orders from you," Damion said coolly.  "I'm sorry for what I said before," he added, turning his head. "Back at the estate, if that's what you want to hear. I don't care about any of that stuff I rebuked you for. I didn't expect more from you at the time. The point is that we can not be friends and I was a fool to think otherwise. If we can't be friends it would be unfair to be anything else. The separation is too great."

Heero got to his feet, flexing his hand and cracking the wrist.  He could almost feel the anger in Damion, clouding and consuming everything like a storm brewing inside of him that swept away reason, judgment, compassion and kindness.  Damion looked like a man whose foundations had crumbled into a chasm and the only thing left to power him was the pure fury fueled by his losses.  "What separation?" Heero asked, though he knew the answer.

"I'm a prince. You never understood that. We can't be friends."  It was an excuse, a device used to ward others away.  Heero knew it well.  He used to use it too.

"I'm a gundam pilot," Heero replied in slow, dark and clear tones. "You never understood that either, but I think we've done all right."

Damion's eyes blazed like the sea on a stormy day as he turned his horse again. "We're through talking."

"If this is about Manny, I'm sorry," Heero shouted. "I didn't mean to be callous. I've never had anyone close to me die before. I know you must be…"

"No," Damion said curtly, angrily. The horse halted under him.  His eyes flared up like twin moons as his head jerked back.  "Don't you dare talk about him.  You don't know. I don't think you have any concept how I feel right now, about anything. I'm not sure you possess feelings for other people. I'm not sure you have them yourself for anything outside Relena. Try to imagine what it would feel like to see her shot in the face and fall at your feet to bleed all over your shoes. That might give you a rough idea of how I feel, but it wouldn't help you understand what I've lost or how lost I feel right now!"

The image of Relena dying that way was too real and too often a thing of his nightmares.

Leaping forward, he made a wild grab for the reins. Damion hit his hands away, shouting unintelligibly as he grappled with both Heero and the horse, his teeth gritted. Heero felt a fist connect with his face and turned his head aside from the blow, but somehow he managed to pull the horse around until he could get a hold on Damion.

"Damn it, Heero!" Damion yelled, struggling.  "You don't…!"

He was cut off as they both toppled to the ground and the horse bolted away from both of them. The saddle had slipped from Heero's weight on one side and hung on the horse a little crooked. Once in the clear, the animal shook its mane and trotted away, but both men ignored it. There was real rage in Damion's eyes now, a rage fit to scorch him as the other man rose up in a crouch, Heero's hand still locked on his arm. 

"If you want to hurt me, hit me!" Heero said in seething tones.

He got his wish. Damion hit him, punching him in the face and knocking him over.  He made as if to stand up and walk away in something like disgust, but despite the pain that flared up under his eye, Heero fought back, grabbing Damion about the shoulder and kicking him down again. Damion coughed, rolling.  As soon as he had breathing space, Heero got to his feet and turned, bracing himself. Damion, his clothes covered in dirt and water from the grass, sprung back up and surged at Heero like he had never been struck down, his booted feet scraping against the dirt of the path. 

"What is your _problem_?" Damion yelled. Heero caught the first punch that was aimed at his face and twisted the hand that flung it, but the second caught him in the stomach and he staggered, coughing.

"It's not my fault Manny is dead," Heero said when he found his voice. "Or that you were abused by Gardiner. You need to get past this. Manny is dead, Damion!  He's…"

"_My_ friend!" Damion seethed, and there were tears in his eyes, hot angry tears.  "But you're right," he spat. "It's not your fault."  He aimed another blow for Heero's head, but Heero ducked, attempting to elbow Damion in the stomach; the other man evaded him. "I was the one who was there." Damion added as he turned, twisting on his feet. "Me! If anyone's to blame…" 

Heero caught his next attack and twisted the prince's arm.  Damion cursed, rising up on his toes. "It's Gardiner," Heero spat. "And you can't control that. It doesn't do anyone any good for you to dwell on what can not be changed. He will be dealt with, but you have to let go of trying to do everything yourself!" 

Furious, Damion kicked him, and Heero caught sight of the prince's face before he fell backward from the kick. For a moment before the blows came, he was alarmed. The prince hardly seemed to recognize him. Heero swore as Damion pinned him down and slugged him repeatedly across the face. Heero tried to cry out, taking blow after blow in a shower of head-ringing pain. The blood that trickled down his forehead got in his eyes so that he had to shut them. Was Damion wearing rings? Desperately, he struggled, bringing his legs around until he managed to throw Damion off balance. In the next second he kicked, landing a shoed foot heavily against Damion's chest and shoving him backward into the grass.

There was silence as Damio hit the earth and stumbled to his knees a few yards away. They both stopped, breathing hard. Heero raised him self off the ground slowly, ears ringing and head pounding. His vision was a little blurry and he could smell dirt and grass all over him. There were small rocks pressed into skin and caught in his clothes everywhere. Wearily, he sat up, tears stinging his eyes from the pain and the blood. He blinked it away and put a hand to his forehead.  There was a small scratch by his hairline, the blood flow already stopping, partially because of the dirt that got mixed in with it.

Damion was kneeling in the grass with his hand clutching his lower ribs where Heero had kicked him. His eyes were tearing too, but by his breathing, he was trying desperately to get himself under control. At first, Heero didn't understand. Heero had given Damion harder knocks in the head. But then he realized that he must have kicked him where he was already wounded. 

Staggering to his feet, Heero half collapsed beside him, reaching out to touch his arm. "Damion… Damion, are you all right?"

"Get off of me," Damion said, drawing back. He coughed and shuddered, squeezing his eyes shut. "Shit. Manny." His eyes teared up as he knelt in the grass, no matter how he blinked or tried to look angry.  "Shit."  He blinked repeatedly and then ducked his head, taking huge, gulping breaths of air.  "_Why now?" he seemed to say to himself.  "Damn you, Heero.  I don't have time for this.  I can't…"_

"Damion…"

"Leave me alone."

It was then that Heero realized Damion was crying. He seemed to be trying to be angry about it, but the tears kept coming and soon his whole body began to shake. Heero swallowed, not sure what to do. Every once in a while Damion would swear using words Heero had never heard him use before and then he fell back, burying his head on his knees. There was nothing to do and nothing to say. Heero had always been taught that showing emotion was different from living by it, and especially after a fight it was not permissible to cry with pride. But this felt different. Damion didn't give a damn about their fight.

Heero didn't say anything. He just sat there with his elbows looped over his knees and his hands hanging, blinking away the pain in his head and trying to keep himself from rubbing his face in places Damion had landed a few particularly good punches. He didn't say anything to Damion or ask what he was crying about.   Heero had no experience with that kind of emotional release, he understood it. Maybe it was just the pain in his chest that had started it, but everything would well up on top of that; Manny's death, Gardiner's escape, Damion's own helplessness, Audrey… Heero hoped so anyway. Not that it would end here, but it would help. 

It still made him uncomfortable. All he felt able to do was sit there and watch him without judgment. A sense of helplessness nearly overwhelmed him, and he wondered if Damion felt that too. Idly, his hands played with the grass, ripping it out of the ground and watching it flutter out of his hands. He wasn't sure how long he sat there, trying not to feel moved, but abruptly he realized things had grown very quiet. It was the kind of quiet that came at the end of a fight, when weariness consumed the fire of battle, and also the kind of quiet that came when there was no more emotion to give.

Turning his head, Heero saw Damion with his head lifted and his eyes cleared, looking straight ahead of him into nowhere with his elbows on his knees, looking sad and drained, but calm.

"You probably think I'm weak," Damion said. "I wish I wasn't."

Heero didn't respond for a moment. "If you have good reason it's not the same as weakness. You have to live by your emotions without being ruled by them, but you can't bottle them up either."

Damion smiled a faint, sad smile, and looked down. "Sounds strange, coming from you."

"I have emotions," Heero said quietly. "I always did. I don't express them very well sometimes, but I have them. I've never felt grief before."

"It hurts," Damion said with a choke, and tears sprang up in his eyes again as he nodded his head a little jerkily. "I miss him. I don't know what to do." Damion closed his eyes. "I wish I could explain what it feels like. There's a void that can't be filled and it feels like its swallowing me and I don't have the power to stop it."

"Don't fill it with anger," Heero said, tossing a small pebble out into the grass. "You'll only hurt yourself."

"But I'm angry. I wish I could have killed him, though, Heero. Gardiner, I mean. I wanted to kill him."

Heero looked at him sideways. "You don't mean that," he said slowly. Damion blinked, raising his head. "Even when I hated you I didn't really want to kill you. I've never _wanted_ to kill anyone. I just had to do it sometimes. I can't believe it would do you any good to take the life of someone you _want_ to murder."

His expression hardened like a rock. "It wouldn't be murder. It would be justice."

"Damion," Heero said. "If you kill someone with that kind of hate you might as well be murdering them. It doesn't feel right. Even Wufei got no joy from killing Treize. You'll just make yourself into a monster."

"What am I supposed to do?" Damion asked. "I can't just let it go. What he did to me…"

"Let Julia take care of it," Heero said.

"She's betrayed me," he said coldly. 

"I don't think so," Heero said. "I'm not claiming I always understood her, but I don't think she betrayed you. I think she tried to save you from this. If she brought Gardiner back to Taravren, what would you do?"

Damion closed his eyes. "I would want to kill him," he said quietly. "Maybe with time I would… I don't know. He deserves death, Heero."

"Maybe," Heero said quietly. "But you shouldn't have to deal it yourself. You need to stop thinking you can do everything on your own. I remember how you wore yourself out when Relena and I came here. There was no reason for that."

Damion was silent for a moment, reflecting. "I apologize for what I said to you," he said slowly. "For everything that I said."

"I deserved some of it," Heero said in a hollow voice.

Damion smiled again, though his continued grief was evident. "Yeah, you did." Picking a rock up off the ground he threw it, watching it bounce along the rocky path. The horse was grazing in the pasture to their left. "I'm sorry if your face swells up too," he added.

"Don't worry about it," Heero said, tossing a second rock in the direction Damion had thrown his.

"I hope mine is better before my wedding," Damion added almost idly, looking again into the distance. "Most of the old marks faded after a couple of days."

"I didn't hit you that hard."

"Thanks."

"What are friends for?"

Damion looked back at him, his eyes clear, almost looking like they used to. "Friends? I thought I explained…"

Heero turned his head slightly. "I've never really had a friend before," he said quietly. "There are the other pilots, but they were comrades first and it's not really… I don't know. I'm not really sure what goes into friendship, but I'd be willing to try, if you'll reconsider your… explanation."

He suddenly realized that Damion wasn't looking at him.  He seemed to be staring at nothing, struggling with a depression blacker than Heero had ever seen on anyone.  Friends.  Damion had lost his, and everything, absolutely everything reminded him of it.  What must he be thinking had happened to Manny?  Or was he merely feeling sorry for himself?  Maybe the emotions were not that clear.  Heero opened his mouth to say something more, to say anything to distract Damion from his darker thoughts, and slowly he began to explain how he had met Duo and the other pilots, first in halting steps and the gradually with more clarity.

Damion blinked at him, his face strangely melancholy, yet attentive.  "I always wanted to hear the whole story," he said quietly. "About you and Relena and your part in the war."  He stopped talking and Heero knew he was being counted on to fill the void, to provide information enough to shuffle back the horrors that invaded Damion's thoughts.  Steeling himself, he started from the beginning.

Heero had intended to keep the story to the basic facts, things that didn't really bother him to share, but as he talked, Damion seemed to come alive again and kept interrupting with personal questions. "What did you think of Relena when you first met her? How did you meet up with Dr. J? What is it like to pilot a gundam? Why did you want to die in battle? Duo shot you when you first met? Should that surprise me?" It went on and on like that until he felt he had dredged up things about the war he never noticed when it was actually happening. The more he talked the weirder he felt, and the more vulnerable. He didn't think he would have been able to manage it if not for all the earlier practice with Relena, though he didn't tell Damion as many details as he told her. The look on Damion's face kept him going. Gradually, he seemed to perk up, his attention being drawn away from his problems with Gardiner and his grief over Manny as he involved himself Heero's crazy past, though a sadness still hung around him. Heero supposed it would take some time for that to go away. 

Heero finished with Relena, explaining how strange it was to be with her now, and how wonderful.  Damion was quiet again.  "What are you thinking?" Heero asked slowly. 

"I'm scared of my wedding," Damion said. 

"Why?" Heero asked. He understood what Damion had meant when he said that he was right about Audrey. She had been taken advantage of at some point in her past and maybe that was the problem. Heero didn't feel comfortable discussing this sort of thing (he could barely make sense of his own wife) but he thought he ought to try. "Gardiner? I don't think that should worry you."

Damion looked away and the wind blew his dark hair around his face, hiding his eyes. Heero shivered from the chill. "I don't know if I can make her happy," Damion said. "I feel like there's so much missing in me right now that…"

"You are more similar in some ways now," Heero said quietly, looking for something to say that he hoped would be comforting. "You both have that sorrow about you. You'll probably always have a piece of it in remembrance for these times, but since she's been with you she's not as cold and sad as she was at first. In time, you won't be either. So you already make her happy. As for the wedding, I think you're making a bigger deal out of it then you need to."

"Marriage?"

"No, sex. Just… You'll both be fine. Audrey's a sensible girl. You shouldn't have to worry about it."

Damion lowered his head. He still looked sad, but no longer angry or cold. "Manny won't see my wedding, you know," he said slowly. "Or my children.  And Terese is gone…" He sighed, closing his eyes. 

"Yeah," Heero said. "But you will have a wedding and you will have children.  Think of that."

Damion smiled, though his eyes didn't reflect a cheery light.

"You were wrong, you know," Heero said out of nowhere. "I've been lost most of my life. Maybe I still am in some ways."

"Well," Damion said with a touch of bitterness, not missing a beat. "At least we have something in common. I just hope I can pull it together for Audrey." He clutched at a fistful of grass and looked at it in his hand. "I love her so much. I was confused before, but now…" He nodded. "I love her. I'm scared and I think she is too, but I want this. I just hope we can get through it."

Heero didn't say anything. 

*****

Abel Gardiner wasn't crazy. Not yet. 

To Julia, Able seemed to be a man on his way to madness, not due to any unexplained chemical imbalance in the brain, but from mere rationalization. She watched him out of the corner of her eye as he stood on the balcony smoking, looking out over the city of Rome with his back turned to her and his hand in his pocket. She busied herself with the laptop set up on the wood table inside, reading over the news in Taravren and internationally.

Escaping from the abandoned estate and getting here had not been complicated. He had left his armies and weapons and power behind without a qualm. Somehow, he seemed to forget his part in the war that had destroyed so many lives even more quickly than he dismissed his power. They had surprised one another with just how clever they could be and she had to admit to herself that it had been an amusing trip. Abel had a strange and astonishing taste for reckless adventure that she would have fancied more in other circumstances. As it was, the intelligence and unpredictability that governed his wild streak were cumbersome to her efforts to unravel his mystery and deal with him accordingly. But he had to be dealt with. She knew it.

"Well?" she heard him say as he turned from the balcony, flicking the butt of his cigarette over the rail before he strode inside. 

"As I expected," she murmured, her fingers curving delicately around the lid of the laptop. "You're wanted for treason and so am I."

He chuckled. "Treason? Because I was born on Taravren soil? Please. He just wants an excuse to kill me."

"I know," Julia said calmly, closing the laptop. "And you know why."

"Yeah, I remember."

He did now.

He was still moving behind her, pacing the floor, probably looking for another cigarette. Occasionally she thought she could feel his eyes on her, but she ignored it for the most part. His obsession with her was not the most peculiar part of him. 

Abel wasn't crazy, but he was getting there. He might have developed a serious mental disorder if he kept on the violent road that he was on. He chose not to remember violence for which he was responsible and in so choosing blinded a part of himself. He remembered things if pressed, but even then there was always an excuse for what he had done, a callous or amused way of explaining why it was necessary. The farther back into his past she pressed the hazier his memories became and the more elaborate the excuses. At length he would fall silent, looking troubled, and change the subject. A few hours later he might even have forgotten the conversation. 

She had gathered in bits and pieces that sometime in his past he had witnessed or experienced great violence for a great deal of time, but he was not forthcoming with the details. Of course he hated it, and tried to forget it. He chose not to remember anything that might trigger that memory, and it was the combination of remembering and trying not to remember that made him violent. His mind kept searching for the realization that that was not his fault, and it wasn't, but without dealing with it directly the best he could do was desensitize himself to violence as a whole. Failing that, he would displace the blame, especially of that which truly was his fault, and his memory rebelled against remembering something he hated. 

She had troubled him trying to get him to remember. Sometimes she thought she could see him thinking about it, trying to reassemble the shards of his past with the result only being frustration and fury. Whatever mental blocks prevented him from remembering whatever it was he feared also prevented him from moving passed it. In retrospect, it was amazing he was as stable as he was. Daily, he seemed perfectly normal, but sometimes he would be irrationally angry and she knew that if she had been a man, he might have hit her indiscriminately. 

However, his feelings and thoughts and motivations were all very much under his awareness and control. He took control of whatever he could, including people and weapons and women and wars. But power also frustrated him because he had been deprived of it his whole life and it angered him to see other people wielding it "poorly," when they had no right to it at all. Damion was one of those people: a Prince with a loving family who did not make use of a power he took for granted. But Julia knew that Damion chose to limit himself. Gardiner did not understand that restraint and temperance gave one more control, not less. He was jealous, and hateful, and angry, and very much aware of it, which made him angrier still. And the anger made him violent.

Abruptly, she felt his fingers brush against the back of her neck and shoulders, caressing her skin very lightly. "Do you mean to turn me in?" he asked. The way he touched her was not suggestive or controlling or coaxing in any way. He never tried to seduce her like that. His touch was more…affectionate, almost casual, which frightened her more than the other. 

"No," she said simply, not reacting in any particular way. Reaching down by her foot, she found her handbag. Rising out of her chair, she adjusted her dress and turned to him, smiling. He looked back at her levelly, and she had the feeling that he understood that those smiles were rarely a reflection of her real mood. He often regarded her expressions like they were puzzles rather then accepting them at face value like so many other men.

Once she was standing, his hands went for her waist, holding her almost like she was a bird, fragile but firm so she wouldn't fly away. There was so much material to her dress that all she registered was the light pressure that went into that hold. She remained perfectly still, her arms straight at her sides, overlapping his hands.

The look in his eye was not as sentimental as his touch. His eyes sparkled with a knowing guile, the sort that made him a leader when he wanted to be. There was power in his expression, and also a certain stubborn desire in the way he looked at her. He wanted her, not just her body, but the whole of her. There was something about her he seemed to find irresistible, only unlike the other men, he seemed to know what it was.

The look she returned was hard eyes in a cool mask. He picked up on it and scowled. "You are still angry with me," he said, clenching his jaw. "Your prince Damion will recover, you know. I didn't permanently hurt him. If it bothers you so much, go back to him and seek pardon. You haven't done anything. He'll forgive you."

"I can't leave you here," she murmured coolly. "And he may not." 

"You mean you don't want to," he said with almost a baiting confidence. "Tell me, have any of your other men loved you like I have?"

She schooled her face to stillness, banishing the images of their intimate moments. He was her best lover, but that was not his business or hers either. Business was a different game, and currently a more important one. So was justice. If only they had met under different circumstances.

His eyes drifted down away from her face to the hand that reached into her purse and a moment later his hands released her waist, taking a few steps back. His expression didn't alter a hair when she pulled a small silver gun out of her handbag and aimed it at him with a straight arm and an expressionless face.

"I thought you didn't want to see me killed," he said, hardly sounding surprised or upset.

"I said I didn't want Damion to kill you," she replied, but she had to force her voice to be cold.

Don't forget to review!   The encouragement is really useful and I'm so so SO happily overwhelmed with the responses I've gotten.  Please let me know what you think of this chapter and the next one will be up faster.  


	29. Of Death and Marriage

Temper the Soul

Chapter 29

By Zapenstap

Damion sat alone in his study, staring at the wall. There were a million papers spread out over his desk, but he could scarcely concentrate long enough to understand what they were even about.

_I'm getting married tonight._

It was five am and the ticking of the second hand on the clock sounded like a gong in his head. He hadn't been able to sleep and it was no wonder. He thought trying to work would tire him out, but it hadn't. He had tried reading, but the stories couldn't capture his attention.

_I'm going to have sex with Audrey tonight._

He wasn't sure if he was more excited or scared. His mind was a storm in turbulence. Even knowing the hours were ticking away could not force the darkness from his mind and his emotions were in perpetual conflict. Every time the absence of Manny crept into his thoughts, he built up a wall, trying to concentrate only on Audrey. Every time Gardiner crept into his thoughts the walls crumbled.

Strangely, he wasn't angry anymore, not like he had been. Returning to the palace after his incident with Heero, he had cried again, a raging sort of emotion release until he cried himself to asleep, and when he woke the anger was just gone. He still couldn't quite let go of the idea that Gardiner deserved to be killed and he should be able to watch, but he no longer wanted to chase the man down himself. He was too tired. His grief was too much for his mind to handle. All he felt now was a dark aching in his blood and in his bones, a pain deep and hurtful that swelled like a river after the rain. He missed Manny more than he hated Gardiner. It was like a part of him, a part of him that had been there his whole life, had been cut off. Manny had been his servant since he was two years old. He would have traded his eyes to have him back.

And now he was getting married. He wasn't sure he could go through with it in this state. There were all those people watching, a thousand in the church alone, and his heart was so empty. After the ceremony came the reception and after the reception would be the real trial, when he would take his wife into his new rooms, the royal chamber, the king's quarters, and make love to her. It had to be tonight and it had to be there. After that, if he wanted to take her away for a honeymoon, he could, but he wasn't sure how the night would go. What if she turned stiff and became reluctant and he had to force her? What if she cried the whole time? What if he was so absorbed in his other emotions he became aggressive and hurt her? What if she was just bored and unresponsive, waiting it out? 

He stared down at his hands, at the mail on his desk, looking for some distraction. His eyes fell on an envelope addressed to him personally, written in a woman's hand, but before he could reach for it, there came a knock at the door.

He raised his head in time to see Audrey enter without waiting for a response, and he did a double take just to be sure it was her. He hadn't seen her since before his fight with Heero and wasn't supposed to see her until the wedding. She stood before him looking uncertain. She wore the same dark blue outfit she had worn when he saw her for the first time, silk pants and a matching top that was both comfortable and elegant. Her hair was gathered up behind her head in a roll, with loose ends trailing down her neck in tight curls and beautiful pins like exotic flowers tucked up into her hair. She rarely wore her hair up, and her neck was something to look at. He would have enjoyed looking at her more if she did not look like she was getting ready to go somewhere…at five in the morning on her wedding day.

"What are you doing here?" he whispered, getting out of his chair. She shouldn't be here. She couldn't be leaving…could she? "Are you going somewhere?"

"I'll be back before the wedding," she said, her mouth slightly parted as she stared at him. The way she stared at him caught him by surprise and he found himself sinking into her eyes, studying the curl of the lashes, the brown irises, the black interior. Her eyes seemed to be trying to draw him into her, tugging him toward her. He took a half step in her direction with the thought of kissing her deeply, but checked himself hastily.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"You look better," she said, licking her lips nervously. "I heard that you had calmed down and I wanted to see you…" She shook her head, closing her eyes. "I was a little afraid," she said. "Have you made peace with yourself? Do you still hate Abel so much that you…"

He couldn't take his eyes off her, and in his distraction his mind made leaps. "Manny is dead," Damion interrupted quietly, but not angrily, just reminding her of a truth that he could not let go of. "And I miss him. No matter how I try I can't forget that Gardiner is responsible for murdering him. My own bruises have healed, but Manny can't come back. He didn't deserve to die."

"I know," Audrey said. The expression on her face moved him. She looked so sad, sad for him and not for herself. Again, he wanted to touch her, to pull her close, but he was afraid he might start crying again. He hated when he did that. "But I can't endure it, Damion. You need to stop hating him. I'm afraid to let you love me if you don't."

"How can I?" he asked. 

"Try," she said. He began to shake his head, but she interrupted him, lifting a hand gracefully. "I'll make a deal with you. I'm going to my father's. I'm going to talk to him… about my mother, and try to make peace with him and myself." She lowered her eyes, her hands clenching into fists. "I've never done anything so difficult." As she lifted her head, he saw that there were tears in her eyes, and emotions he had never thought to see in her face. "It goes against my feelings but it is the right thing to do and I need it. I'll do what I can and be back in time for the wedding. It will take me hours to get ready, but when I see you at the altar…" her eyebrows were knit together even as she smiled, "I'm going to be there knowing it will last forever. And I want you to be there knowing the same, and not hating me…for what happened."

He was stunned. This proposal must be…enormously difficult for her. "I don't…"

"I've been thinking about it since I last saw you," she continued. "About my father. God help me, I must want to love him or I wouldn't hate him so much for the mistakes he's made. I know you don't hate me," she added, "but I know it has been hard for you to forgive me and to let go of what Abel has done. I know you loved Manny and I know how much you miss him. Believe me, I do, but even if you're sad you have to let him go and move on with life." Her eyes looked so pleading that he swallowed. Her eyes seemed to shimmer.

"Okay," he said, breathing quickly. He wasn't even sure where the response sprung from, but he knew he believed it. He didn't want her to cry. He would promise anything. "I'll try. Go to your father's. If you can do that…" He was still amazed that she had even been able to suggest it. "God, if you can do that, I can do anything."

She smiled at him, again with her eyes shimmering with tears, and walked toward him. Her hand touched his face softly, just by the ear, as she bit her lip and looked into his eyes with such understanding and encouragement that his heart stirred. He couldn't help it. He kissed her, amazed as his mouth remembered the soft welcome of her lips. She closed her eyes, choking with emotion as his arms went about her waist, trembling in his embrace but not pulling away. He couldn't believe how right she felt in his arms, how much he wanted to go on holding her forever, but he broke their contact, swallowing. 

"I love you," he said in the still silence that followed.

"I love you too," her lips moved, voicing the words so quietly he could only just barely hear the pronunciation on the "t". "I'll see you tonight," she said more audibly. Smiling, she touched his cheek again and walked away, the door closing softly behind her.

For a moment he couldn't move, feeling strange, but mostly scared. The clock in the room was still ticking, the seconds passing by. Feeling slightly dizzy, he went back to his desk and lifted the letter up from underneath a pile of other business. Using the electric letter opener, he cut off the top and pulled out an impressive amount of pages, all hand written in a delicate, feminine hand he recognized as belonging to Julia. His heart almost stopped beating as he held the letter in his hands, his vision blurring at the site of it. He couldn't read it. The words would not come into focus. Swallowing, he stuffed the pages back into the envelope and sat at his desk with his head in his hands.

"Manny, where are you?" he said to nobody, squeezing his eyes shut. Tears leaked out of them, hot, liquid tears, and he wiped them away absently. What did Julia have to say? Could he stand to read it?

With shaking hands, he spread the letter on the table, not sure what he would find.

_To Prince Damion Ravineere, who shall soon be a king and a husband both if he is not already,_

_I do not know if you can forgive me, but know that I am sorry for any additional burden my actions may have caused you. I fear you must think you are betrayed. I can not imagine how you are feeling, but the rumors I hear worry me. _

_I have taken care of Gardiner. You will never have to see or worry about him again. I know you may have wanted to deal with him yourself, but it is better this way. It will do no good, I know, to tell you that he was not quite right in the head and I don't mean that in reference to his violence. He was violent, but he doesn't remember being so. This is a difficult thing to explain, and perhaps to you it is irrelevant, but it was difficult to get him to admit ever harming anyone. I image the men who died in the watchtower died by his orders, but he doesn't remember that. I can't explain it except to say that violence terrifies him. Something happened to him in his past, perhaps repeatedly, and he has difficulty remembering anything that associates himself with what he hated. I'm not asking you to forgive him. He is guilty of countless injuries and for that he deserves death. For awhile I was reluctant to see this through. Believe it or not, but I may have come to care about this criminal. He had a fascinating intellect, but be that as it may, I have taken care of him…_

He stopped reading. Drawing in quick, painful breaths, he folded the letter (there were still many more pages) and stuffed it into his coat pocket. His hands shook even after doing so. What game was she playing? What did she _want_ from him? She seemed to be saying that Gardiner was not as guilty as he thought, that the man deserved some sort of compassion in spite of his crimes. But Manny was dead and he couldn't shake the image of his servant's body as it had hit the ground, his face blown apart, one eye missing. Many people were dead. What did she want him to say? And what did she mean she had taken care of Gardiner? Had Julia killed him herself, hired someone to do it, or did she merely mean she had spirited him away where he would never be heard from again? Why would she show that kind of mercy for such a man as Abel Gardiner? The man was brilliant and so was she. Maybe she found a match for herself and didn't want to give him up. Damion knew her appetites. Maybe, as messed up as it seemed, Abel Gardiner satisfied them. If he was so fascinating could Damion really expect a woman like Julia, whose care for anyone was questionable, to give up her game for a boy she had taught to kiss, even if he was a prince? Damion was one of the few people who knew that Julia had suffered abuse by her early lovers. Damion had comforted her and befriended her then. So had Manny. And now here she was, back on the same old paths. He couldn't understand. How could she just let Manny go and sleep with the man who had murdered him? He did not understand her double standard.

There was no one to talk to. Manny was dead. Julia was gone. Terese was gone. Heero was with Relena in their hotel in the city, happy being married and not wishing to be disturbed. Audrey had left to see her father. He could talk to his mother, but he had already made peace with her and he did not want to rouse her at this hour. 

"I'm alone," he said, and only the books on the shelves and the papers on his desk heard him. 

He thought again of Mary and drew a deep breath, not wishing to travel those paths. That had been a crazy moment. He was going to marry Audrey tonight. The wedding band was in his pocket. With Manny gone, there was no one he trusted to carry it. He couldn't bear the idea of having someone else as his best man. He felt suffocated. He needed to talk to someone about this. Why couldn't he let Manny go? Desperately, he tried to think his way out of this painful prison, wishing he had a woman's mind to deal with these kind of emotions. What would he do if someone else came to him looking as emotionally confused as he felt right now? 

Feeling conflicted, he got up out of his chair and determined to go…somewhere. He needed to think. 

*****

The taxicab dropped Heero and Relena off at the Palace around three o-clock in the afternoon, still several hours before the wedding. Damion was supposed to be dressed in his formal attire and down at the church by five, but no one knew where he was or when he had left. Someone on the Palace staff had called Relena to see if she had seen him anywhere. Heero hadn't seen him since their fight two days before and had talked to him only once. But they both agreed to come down to the palace anyway.

When the cab rolled up to the gates, Heero got out first and let Relena out on the other side. Her hand curled over his wrist as she stepped out into the street and looked around. Several people came to take Relena's purse and their coats. Apparently, everyone knew they were back in Damion's good graces, which meant full hospitality even if he wasn't there.

Neither Damion nor Audrey was in the Palace right now. Rumor had it that Audrey had traveled to her home estates in the country and would return to the city with her father in more than enough time for the wedding. That meant she would have to return soon because it would likely take four hours to have her bathe in a special, traditional bath, apply lotions, have her hair and make-up done and stuff her into that huge and elaborate wedding dress. Heero didn't understand it at all, but Relena seemed fascinated by the whole affair.

"She's the consort to a king, Heero. There's a lot that goes into her wedding day."

Heero shrugged. It took him less than three minutes to get dressed every morning. It took ten minutes today, but that was only because he was dressed up in a blue blazer with silver cufflinks and a dress shirt the required little adjustments. Relena had combed his hair for him--not that it had done much good--but the whole thing felt like a bother. He felt far too fancy and the only thing that made it worthwhile was the way Relena had bit her lip and told him how his coat brought out his eyes and how handsome he looked. He couldn't imagine needing four hours to get ready for anything, but Relena said that was a minimal amount of time and Audrey would have to hurry.

Relena was gorgeous. He couldn't stop staring at her. She had been getting ready while he was sleeping so he didn't know how long it had taken, but she looked positively stunning. Her dress was a cream-colored gown that clove to her body from shoulders to ankles. And it glittered. At first he thought it had sequins, but when he looked more closely it appeared to be made of tiny little iridescent beads, at least on the outer layer. More than that, it had no sleeves. The thing wrapped around the top of her breasts and around her back, but her shoulders were completely bare. She had rubbed lotion into her skin that smelled like the tropics, coconut and water lilies, and it made her skin glitter right along with her dress. She had pulled her hair up off her face, wrapping it into an elaborate bun behind her head, like a brown-blonde cinnamon roll with curls popping out here and two long tresses streaming down either side of her face, curled into tight little ringlets. He couldn't stop touching her. Every time she smiled, he had to smile back and kiss her, or trail a finger along her shoulder, or put a hand around her waist. The best part about her ensemble was the way his wedding ring shone like a star on her finger. The only problem was that no matter how lovely it was to show her off, he still wanted to take her to a secluded place and undress her. The hair could stay, but eventually the clothes had to go.

Without Terese, the palace was chaos in preparation. It would have been worse if the dark-haired girl hadn't done all of the prep-work already, but as it was, no one seemed to have a full understanding of what was going on. There were carts and boxes everywhere. The kitchens were preparing feasts for too many guests to count. Tables were being set up in the dining room, overlaid with white table clothes and decorated with elaborate centerpieces, silver, flowers and candles. The whole affair just in the palace had cost a fortune. Heero hadn't been down to see the church yet. 

He was aware that somewhere there were crowns, probably sealed away right now, but it was a strange thing to think about. The crowning ceremony was mixed with the wedding ceremony, which changed everything traditional about it. There was no wedding march or bridesmaids or bouquet. The affair was more formalized, and focused more on the crowning than on the wedding, which made a sort of political sense. It was likely that a great many people in Taravren would be watching at least on television, and thousands would be in physical attendance.

It was no wonder the palace was in chaos. After the ceremony, the new King of Taravren with his Queen would go to the reception in the palace to meet and greet everybody who had been invited. The difference was that in a traditional reception the bride was the focus of attention, but where Damion was concerned, the Prince, or King now, was always the focus. Audrey would be Queen of Taravren and so it was her party too, but she would share it with Damion, and today all the loyalties would change. People would start to defer to Audrey now, the Council Lords would give their blessing, members of all the best families in the country would bow or curtsey and when the party was done, the King and Queen would retire. Heero knew there was a room being set up for that too, the royal chamber, empty since Jacob Ravineere had died and his wife had new quarters prepared for herself out of grief. Now the rooms were being redone, in a décor Audrey had most likely chosen, and that's where the marriage would be consummated.

"_Where_ is Damion?" Relena said as they stood in the middle of the lobby, watching everyone scurry around. Other people were dressed up too, though few outshone Relena in his mind, but the palace staff was just trying to get things under control.

Heero put a hand on the small of her back and just shook his head. "He'll be here. He's got to put on those ridiculous robes he wears for formal occasions. How long do you think that takes?"

Relena laughed behind her hand and smiled at him with sparkling blue eyes. "I have no idea."

"Heero! Relena!"

They turned to see Duo charging toward them. And lo and behold, Hilde was with him, grinning from ear to ear with her hands wrapped around his arm.

"Duo," Relena greeted him with a smile, "Hilde! When did you get here?"

"Yesterday," the slim, dark-haired girl said with an even brighter smile. "I came as soon as I could find someone to watch over the business. Thanks for finding him, Heero," she added quietly.

Heero shrugged. "Duo gets himself in and out of his own trouble."

Duo looked puzzled. "I'm not sure what that's supposed to mean, but I think I'll take it as a compliment for the day," he said slowly, scratching his head. "The other guys are here too, in the city anyway. They'll be at the church in time for the ceremony, though. Where's Damion?"

"Nobody knows," Relena said. "But I'm starting to get worried."

Duo blinked. "He wouldn't miss his own wedding. It's not like he can escape anywhere. He's probably just nervous."

"He's not in the palace," Heero began, "With Manny dead, he may be trying to…"

"Audrey," Relena said suddenly, tugging on Heero's arm.

She had just come in the front door, her hair done up and her night blue traveling clothes dust stained. She came in with her father, a tall, imposing man with gray at his temples and dark, piercing eyes. There was something of Audrey in his face and his presence, a similarity about the way they both held themselves, a stubbornness and a strong will. Seeing Heero, Relena and the others, Audrey turned to her father, held his arm and said a few words. Then she turned and approached them.

"Where is Damion?" she asked in a soft voice. "No one I've talked to seems to know where he has gone."

Heero said nothing as his wife spoke confidently. "He's not in the palace, Audrey, but he'll be back."

Audrey's eyes looked troubled, but she nodded a little jerkily. "I must start getting ready. There is so much to do. If you see him, tell him I will be waiting for him and that I am ready now." 

"There are probably a dozen people waiting to help you in your rooms," Relena told her. "We'll tell him."

Audrey nodded and turned away from them. In the middle of the room she raised her hand and people immediately dropped what they were doing to assist her. Her father was escorted away and Audrey herself was taken upstairs. Looking at her, Heero thought he had never seen anyone so nervous, but she carried herself with grace and poise despite the twinge of terror in her eyes.

"Where is he?" Duo muttered. "Man, I expected you to do this, Heero, not Damion."

"Me?" Heero said. "Do what?"

"Disappear hours before your own wedding and…_hopefully_…show up just in time."

"He's got a lot to deal with," Heero said with dark confidence. "But he'll be here."

*****

Damion sat with his hands folded, staring at an altar in a much smaller church then the one where his wedding was being prepared. There was a crucifix hanging in the back and stained glass windows in the walls, but the room was very simple. The pews were plain wood and padded. There were bibles and songbooks tucked in a little shelf like a pocket in the back of the pews, something Damion remembered seeing when he was a kid and used to come here on occasion with Manny. Damion's own parents attended the other church as was traditional for the royal family. Damion had been there too, but as kids he and Manny were inseparable and it was easier for him to go to Church with Manny than the other way around. Eventually he stopped going altogether and it had been a long time since he had gone anywhere for a worship service. The last time he was in a church building was at Heero and Relena's hastily thrown together wedding, but that hardly counted. It wasn't why he was here anyway.

There was no service right now. It was early in the morning on a Tuesday, but there were people in the church working. However, he came here to be alone and there was no one at all in the sanctuary except himself. He didn't even think anyone had seen him come in, not that they would have stopped him if they had. The sanctuary was open for anyone, and was supposedly a humble place to be, a place to think, and that was what he wanted. 

It crossed his mind that people also came to churches for funerals. It was his wedding day, but he was thinking about death, and trying desperately not to. He had hoped coming here would make him feel the reality of Manny's death, make the image of his body under the ground more real, but all he could think about was the way he looked when he had when he was alive. And he couldn't stop. He didn't want Manny to be dead.

He blinked hot tears from his eyes and they slipped down his cheeks, leaving a salty residue. This should not be how he should be feeling. There was a beautiful, intelligent loving woman waiting for him, getting ready for him. Soon he would marry her, and also be a king. She would be applying special lotions and fragrances, oils and undergarments about now, but thinking about sex only made him angry. To avoid it, he tried ignoring thoughts of Audrey altogether.

Manny had been his companion all his life. One member from Manny's family was always chosen to be the prince's personal servant, and it was an honor to Manny's family as well as Manny himself. Damion's father had also had a servant, Manny's father, and they had grown up together. Their children, Damion and Manny, continued the tradition. Only Damion's kids would never play with Manny's, would never get into scrapes together, or trade identities for a day, or explore the palace and pretend they were pirates like Damion and Manny had done. And Damion and Manny as adult parents would never smile and pretend they didn't notice. He thought back over all the things they had done together, the had arguments they had over station when Manny first began to realize that he was a servant and not just a friend. Damion also remembered the years when he first realized he was a prince and did a few inexcusable things (which had ended in black eyes and bleeding noses from Manny's fists). He remembered the girls they had fought over, and how angry he was when he learned that Manny could do more things with girls then he was allowed to do. His parents had been very watchful of his own exploits because he was in the public eye, but he learned to get over the temptation. Now that he was getting married Manny would not be there.

He stared at the crucifix on the wall, but the figure didn't stare back.

_Why did you kill Manny? _He thought to some vague idea of God in the silence_. Why did you let him die? What am I supposed to do now that he's gone? I can't just forget him. I won't._

There was no answer. The silence in the room was deafening, but nothing about it changed. Damion only felt sad, even sadder than he had before, like he was carrying a weight that was dragging him down to the floor. It felt so heavy he could scarcely breathe, and he also felt watched. It made him uncomfortable. He felt like he had when Heero had sat and watched him cry. He had never felt so foolish and weak before, but at least he had not been alone then.

_Are you even listening to me?_

"Damion?"

For a second he was scared, but then he turned, registering a human voice. Pastoral Howel had entered the sanctuary. Damion watched with a glower as the older man walked up the aisle and sat in the pew beside him, though with some distance between. Lowering his eyes, Damion settled back again, leaning against the pew and propping his feet up against the pack of the one in front of him.

"I thought you were getting married today," the pastor said quietly, folding his hands in his lap. He was dressed casually for a Tuesday, in slacks and a dress shirt. Maybe he had been planning on attending Damion's wedding.

"I am," Damion said. "In a little while." He hoped the man didn't ask why he was there; he felt they both understood it. Pastor Howel had known Manny almost as long as Damion had, but it didn't make him feel better. It just made him more self-conscious.

"You don't look like a man who is about to be married," Pastor Howel said quietly. "You look like a man whose best friend just died."

Damion took a deep breath, unable to stop more tears from escaping his eyes and rolling down his cheeks, but he blinked his eyes rapidly, his eyelashes capturing the remaining tears and the rest receding back to where they come from. It was an effort not to scrub his face. What could he say to that? It was true. He had trouble focusing his attention on Audrey at all. He just kept thinking of a body in a shallow grave with no tombstone.

"I knew Manny very well," the pastor said when he didn't answer, still in those soft tones. "It's okay for you to miss him."

Damion nodded quickly, wondering if he should thank the man and go, but he felt rooted to the spot, unable to move. His whole body felt so heavy. He felt like he was being scrutinized, dissected, but Howel's face was perfectly flat, even kindly. Even so, his breathing came in shorter gasps as he shifted in his chair, trying to sink beneath the eyes that were staring at him. With an effort, he made himself speak, and then it just poured out. "Everybody keeps telling me I need to let go," he said, choking a little on the words. "I wanted to murder Gardiner, but Audrey said that that kind of revenge is a sin, and then I got into a fight with a Heero." He laughed a little at himself, a little hysterically. "And that made me feel better. But I keep crying. I don't know what is wrong with me, but the more I think about Manny the more I find myself…forgetting… I already can't remember what he looks like. How long before I forget the sound of his voice or his face? I don't want to let go. I don't want to move on. I'm not ready to be married. I don't want to go through with it." Audrey's face loomed in his mind. It hurt, saying that. He also didn't know how much Pastor Howel knew of what had happened to him. He certainly wasn't going to tell him. _They beat me and hurt me and stripped me of my pride and my only true friend and then they got away. _But he wasn't as angry about that anymore. He was more glad that it was over.

"It's okay to miss him," the pastor repeated after a moment of silence. Damion felt the tears coming again and sank lower in his seat, swallowing. He couldn't believe how weak he was. "We all loved him around here. He was a really good person. He did his job without complaint and lived his life as best he could. He tried to be happy and tried to do what was right. He loved you too. You know that."

For a moment, he couldn't say anything. Of course Manny loved him. They were friends. They had always been friends. But what kind of man just let his friend go when he died? What kind of man just picked up his life and went on with things? Damion thought of Heero and felt suddenly sick. Even if Relena had died, he thought Heero would just go on with things, would bury her wherever she lay and just go on. But in what state of mind? In what health? "What can I do?" he asked. It was the question he couldn't answer.

"You don't have to forget him," pastor Howel said. "I don't think that's what anyone wants. You don't have to forget him, but you do have to keep living. I'm not God, but I have a pretty high confidence that wherever Manny wakes up, it will be a place where he is very happy and very well loved. Wherever he is, he understands more than you do."

Damion blinked the tears away. Heaven. That was the only place Manny could go in his mind. He suddenly didn't want to grasp the idea that there may be nothing after death. He had grown up being taught that there was a heaven and he grasped at that idea now. It didn't matter if the metaphysics of it made no sense to him. He couldn't bare the thought of Manny's soul just…evaporating…like it was nothing. Manny believed in God. Surely that must count for something. "If Manny's in heaven," Damion asked. "Can he see me?"

"I don't know," the pastor said with a solemn, thoughtful expression. "Nobody knows that. I don't even know if we go to anywhere _directly_ after we die. It's not something we have to worry about. But I do know that Manny had a lot going for him and he was conscious of his mortality on Earth. He loved greatly and I think wherever he ends up, everyone will know that. He'll be well taken care of. The only thing you have to worry about is how much you will miss him."

Damion took a deep breath. He already missed him. He had never gone so many days without seeing Manny before, and the thought of life continuing this way forever was daunting. 

"Grief takes time," Howel assured him. "I've seen a lot of people in grief, and I know. All it means is that you loved someone enough to really miss them. It just takes time to adapt."

"Why didn't I feel this way when my father died?" Damion asked quietly. "I loved him too. Or I thought I did."

"You did, but your father was a little distant from you. He didn't want you to depend on him too much. That might have been a mistake on his part."

"I grieved," Damion said quietly, remembering. "But I was busy and it just seemed…different."

"There was more warning. Your father looked older than he was. He had health problems and you knew that. Manny was your age and you spent more time with him than anybody. Not as many people as you might think love someone in their lives deeply enough to feel as you do when that person is taken away. But Manny doesn't need you to dwell on him. Who knows? One day you might see him again. If you do, I'm sure he'll have a lot to tell you. But you have to wait for it. Be patient. Live so that you have some stories to share."

Damion's eyes felt dry and tired. He had the sudden urge to take a nap, but he knew that was impossible. He still felt shaky in the middle, but the weight that had been pulling him down had lifted. The sadness was still there, and the regret, but he was starting to see light creeping in through the corners, illuminating the shadows in his head. There was a glow inside him, a pulsing beat like his heart, only a shining, shimmering white. His sadness settled around it, still there, but subdued, illuminated. Was this what people meant when they said they felt a ray of hope? 

"It's going to take some time," the pastor said quietly. "You may feel pangs of regret for a long time to come, but sorrow can strengthen and shape us if we don't allow ourselves to be weighed down by it. You've shared something of the sadness there is in this world. You're not the only one that feels it. Anyone who deeply loves knows sorrow and no one can claim to have strength if they have not walked through fire and refused to burn up. That's how silver and gold are tempered. Our souls are much the same way."

Damion tilted his head. That sounded very much like what Audrey had said. "But what do I do?"

"Manny wouldn't want you to be sad forever. Go get married. Love your wife, rule your kingdom, raise a family and entertain friends. If you need time alone, spend it reading or doing something to occupy your thoughts. When you feel ready, spend time with people who knew Manny as well as you did and talk about him. People who have lost loved ones find that it helps to swap old stories and you must have many of them."

"I do," Damion said, and let out a little laugh. Lowering his eyes, he stared at his hands and smiled to himself. Unbidden, thoughts of Audrey blossomed in his mind. "What time is it?"

"A little passed four," pastor Howel said quietly. "If you don't want to be late for your wedding, you should go."

"Yes," Damion said, shifting to put his feet on the floor. "I mean no. No, I don't want to be late for my…" he fished in his pocket for the wedding band and pulled out the letter Julia had addressed to him instead. "Wedding," he finished numbly, staring at the papers and remembering their contents. He had forgotten all about Gardiner. Suddenly, he smiled to himself. He really didn't care about Gardiner anymore. Manny was in heaven and Damion got the girl. She loved him and she was waiting. Damion stood up and maneuvered his way to the center aisle. A little down the carpet, he stopped and turned. "Thank you," he said.

The pastor nodded again, this time with a smile. "I hope to see you again," he said. "You will make a good king and a better husband. Now go, or you will be late."

Damion went. Outside on the curb, he called home for a car to come pick him up. The receptionist sounded relieved to hear from him, if a little stressed out. He apologized with a smile and asked for a bouquet of white roses to be delivered to Audrey's rooms with a card from him. He dictated what he wanted it to say. Then he asked if it was too late to put white roses in with the flowers at the altar in the church. He was told they would try.

When a black limo came to pick him up, he sat in the back with Julia's letter in his hand, pouring over the words, this time reading it through.

…_I do this so that you can let go of any feelings of revenge you may be harboring. I can't imagine how you must be feeling, but you should know that I loved Manny too. Everybody did. I can not tell you how much it hurts to know that he is gone and know that Gardiner was responsible. But I could not let you kill him. Manny doesn't need Gardiner's death. He wouldn't want you to kill anyone for his sake. He would tell you that God had called him to heaven, and though I can't claim I personally believe that, that is what he would say. Please know that I never meant to betray you. I tried to kill Gardiner myself, but I couldn't. I don't know why. Instead, I turned him in to a foreign government. He has committed crimes in many places and he will be judged accordingly. I hope you are not angry with me for denying Taravren the right. It may be that he will be sent to Taravren eventually since he is native there, but it may take years, time enough, I hope, for you to shed any personal entanglements associated with bringing him to justice._

_One day I hope to return to Taravren myself, but not for awhile.__ I discovered something when I turned Gardiner in. I am tired of my life style. It served me to a point, but I find myself wishing for something better. I am going to take some time out in the world and perhaps attempt to find someone. I'd forgotten what love could feel like. Gardiner was demented, but I think he loved me, and though it may sound equally demented, I might have loved him too, after a fashion. When I next return to Taravren I hope you will have found it in your heart to forgive and pardon me. I should not like to be thrown in prison. I also hope when I return to Taravren to find you with a least one child to amuse me. I have always liked children and I think I will be especially fond of yours. Forgive me if I spoil them._

_In the hopes of achieving this goal, I have included some personal advice which you may find useful very soon. There are some things about a life style such as mine of which a man in your position can benefit. Experience is experience. _

Pages followed, pages of an explicitly sexual nature he almost swallowed his tongue to read. But he read them with an avid fascination, his eyes glued to the words as he flipped page after page. Julia was not shy, not at all, and he had never read anything so graphic and yet so practical. It wasn't like a magazine and it wasn't like the way people talked about sex when they were trying to impress each other. According to Julia, the most important thing he could do for Audrey was to make sure she knew he loved her, and to possess her fully. He already knew that, but Julia added some extensive tips that, if he was interested, might increase his chances in making the experience pleasurable for her. Damion was very interested. Julia also warned him that though first times were painful, sometimes that pain lasted past the first time, despite the fact that a broken hymen did not grow back. It was still an act that for some girls took some getting used to. He hadn't known that, but he stored the knowledge away just in case and determined that he really would be gentle whatever kind of girl Audrey was. Julia added other notes, pages and pages of information that was presented casually, with the warning that there were no magic charms and they had lots of time. The most important thing she emphasized was confidence. The other important thing was control and patience. He was inexperienced she said, and that might mean he would need more experience before he could use much of the information she provided. She gave him tips on how to improve his chances anyway. All of it was highly embarrassing, but by the time he reached the palace he was laughing.

Then he remembered there was a ceremony to get through first, as well as a reception, and right now he had to concentrate on getting dressed and down to the church. He also reminded himself that things with Audrey might be even more complicated than Julia expected. However the talk with her father went, Audrey might still be afraid. That was why he had to love her, love her like she had never been loved before, and make her his. The only thing to do with a girl who was self-possessed was to possess her more strongly than she could possess herself, and he determined to do just that with all the love he could muster.

PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE Review!!!  You'll make someone smile!  ^_^  Thank you very much! 


	30. Wedding Night-edited

This is the edited version.  A "lemon" version is posted on my website, though you have to ask me for the special link. Nothing is cut out of the edited version that would take away from the story.  I promise. 

Temper the Soul

Chapter 30

By Zapenstap

The murmur of voices was deafening. Bodies flooded the street outside of the church where a limo pulled up to the curb. It was all Heero and Relena could do to get to the church without being trampled, even with the hands that were proffered to assist them by palace servants in black tuxedos. Certain entrances were roped off for special invited guests. They had to have a card stamped with Damion's personal seal to get through that way, reserved for family and special friends. Relena held theirs, administered to them by someone in the palace right before they left. The guard at the gate took it absently, recognizing their faces, and directed them indoors with a gloved hand.

Everyone working or in special attendance was dressed to attend a ball and the churchmen were garbed head to toe in all their clerical trimmings. The inside of the church was just starting to fill up. Relena felt like she was at a party or a convention or a concert, but if anything this felt even more formal and even more excessive.

The church was aglow in candlelight. There must have been four thousand candles in the sanctuary, set along every shelf and empty floor space. The ones along the floor were incased in blown glass tubes to keep people from kicking them over or lighting their clothes on fire, but most of the candles were on the altar and round the pulpit, glittering in rows that ascended higher and higher like a cresting wave of flickering flame. She could see the space where Damion and Audrey would stand. The area behind looked like a bonfire, there were so many candles. It looked like a night sky at sunset, with every candle's flame a star burning especially bright. The lighting in the room was darkened, but because of the red carpeting and the curtains it really _did_ look like a sunset, a sunset with stars. Electrical lights from high above also shown down on that space, a circular beam of light to sheath the Prince of Taravren and his bride Audrey Veron so that the whole world could see them exchange rings.

"I miss Terese," Relena told Heero quietly. "She would have wanted to see this."

Standing behind her, Heero put a hand around her waist. She smiled and covered his hand with hers. His hand was larger and rougher and stronger than her hand, but she liked to touch it, to thread her pale, slim fingers between his darker, stronger ones. She also liked his hand pressed against her middle, to feel safe in his grasp, to be aware of his presence behind her, his eyes looking just over her head.

"We should sit down," Heero said in those dark, practical tones. Nodding, she took his hand and led him to where she thought they were supposed to sit. The laughter and chatting of the hundreds of people already in the room drowned out the music being played by a group of classical musicians in the corner.

They still hadn't seen or heard a word from Damion. Heero was confident he would show up with plenty of time to spare, but Relena was starting to feel a bit nervous and she couldn't really tell how much of Heero's confidence was put there just to make her feel better. Unconsciously, she kept turning to scan the faces coming in, looking for Damion's among them. The groom should be greeting the guests at this point. Where was he?

As soon as all the personally invited guests were seated, there would be room in the back for other people to stand, people who had just wanted to come. The outside of the church was lined with bodies too, with televisions so that those not admitted could still watch the ceremony and catch the couple in person when they came out. Relena was sure every other person would have carried a camera if photography wasn't forbidden for anyone except certain members of the press.

Heero was looking around the room with his dark eyes alert. Relena watched him, sitting in her seat with her head turned up to the left to look up at his face. His eyes always captivated her, intent and intelligent. He was always thinking about something, always planning his next step, adjusting himself constantly to the situation. She loved him so much.

"What are you thinking?" she asked him. Sometimes she could tell and sometimes his thoughts startled her. She loved that too.

"That if we had gotten married like this I might very well have run like Duo said," he replied.

For an instant, an icicle pierced her heart, but then she realized he was speaking of something that wouldn't happen, was merely considering a hypothetical in the past. He _had_ married her, as strange as it had been, and there was nothing like regret in his voice.  He just sounded surprised. "There would be a lot of people at my wedding," she agreed slowly. "You would have left me, Heero?"

"No. I didn't say that. I just meant I would have run from the ceremony." He looked at her, dark and mysterious. She could see her own reflection in the pupils of his eyes. "But I would never leave you."

She just shook her head at him. Of course. But then, she wasn't sure she would have asked Heero to marry her with all that much fanfare. She wasn't really fond of frills herself, but it would have been nice to wear the dress and see all their friends and family in attendance. "What about a repeat ceremony?" she asked, testing the waters. "Since the pressure is off. I mean…"

"Yeah," he said, looking straight ahead. "If you want to keep on with the plans you've already made and invite the press and all that, I wouldn't mind. Not now.  It's already done."

"Hey, Heero!" 

They both turned to see Duo and Hilde coming in with Quatre, Trowa and Wufei. Miliardo and Noin came in behind them, separate and together.  Milliardo seemed to have made a full recovery from his injuries.  Smiling in welcome, Relena beckoned to them to join her and Heero. They did, Duo and Hilde settling on Relena's right, Wufei and Trowa on Heero's left and Zechs, Noin and Quatre in the pew behind. Quatre leaned over by Duo with his elbows on the pew in front of him, his head resting on his wrists. 

"Did I just hear what I think I heard?" Duo said with a grin. "Because man, Heero. I think most of us feel pretty gypped. I mean, if you _have_ friends," he ignored Heero's glare, "I suppose we're it, and we didn't get to see your wedding. Aw, come on. Don't look at me like that. If I wasn't your friend, as hard as you are to be friends with, I wouldn't care so much." 

"We'll have a second ceremony," Heero told them all blandly. "Later."

"Speaking of which," Quatre murmured. "Where is Damion?"

Relena bit her bottom lip, peering again out over the crowd. People were settling. The sitting section of the room was almost filled. The balconies were filling. The guards were beginning to let in the people from outside to stand or take what seats were left. Audrey, of course, wasn't in the room. She was in back somewhere, likely surrounded by attendants, applying last minute things and trying to quiet her nerves. Relena remembered how scared she was when Heero told her he was marrying her that night. How much worse was it with all these people watching? And if Audrey feared Damion wasn't here…

"Isn't that him?" Trowa said quietly, pointing.

Relena looked. Someone had appeared amidst the candles, emerging out of the backroom and conversing with the clergyman. A moment later, he turned and walked down to the main floor, greeting people. Relena caught a flash of gray eyes, but it was his clothes that gave him away. Damion was wearing his formal attire, the white and gold robes reserved for important ceremonies and foreign affairs. No doubt he would remove them for the reception, but for the wedding ceremony, this was what he would get married in. There was also a circlet about his head, a thin band of gold that Relena knew would be replaced with a crown in a matter of minutes.

"He looks better," Quatre said. "He's not smiling, but he looks easier than when I saw him last. Maybe a little scared about the eyes, but it _is_ his wedding."

Beside Relena, Heero nodded, crossing his arms. "Yeah, he does look better.  Not the same, though."

"Did you ever resolve that fight?" Duo asked, turning to blink large blue eyes at Heero. Hilde leaned in over Duo's shoulder, her short hair styled with gel and decorated with tiny beaded clips. She was wearing a dress too, a slender, purple gown that reached to the floor with double straps for sleeves.

"Yeah," Heero said. "We're friends again."

Heero didn't elaborate and it didn't look like anyone expected him too. Hearing him admit that Damion was a friend was enough for Relena. She had heard the story already and it had made her feel decidedly sad and happy at the same time, but she was glad Damion was feeling better anyway. It was like he had become a different person, someone she no longer liked, and she knew a lot of it had to do with his grief. It might take him awhile to deal with that, but she hoped he was recovering.

Abruptly, Damion raised his head and turned his eyes on them. He murmured something to the people he was greeting and came toward them in a steady stride. Heero put his feet flat on the floor and uncrossed his arms. Quatre sat back and Hilde shifted away from Duo, straightening her dress and patting her hair. Up close, Damion was more intimidating than he had been farther away. It was partly his clothes and partly the circlet on his head, but more than that it was just the way he had changed. Looking at him now, it was like Quatre had said. He wasn't smiling the way he used to. He looked more peaceful and controlled then when she had last seen him, but he was still different. The sweet carelessness that used to be so obvious had vanished entirely.  In it's place was a commanding presence, and a look of regret.

Relena turned her head to look back at her brother. Milliardo was a prince too, a forgotten fact in most people's minds. The difference was he had never been raised in a court, but there were things about him that never entirely vanished, a presence and a state of mind that had a touch of regality about it. And Milliardo had lost so much in life, enough to make a mask out of his face without the use of the steel covering he used to wear. Milliardo's ice blue eyes met Damion's and though neither blinked or spoke, it seemed to Relena that they understood one another. Relena had seen Milliardo look the same way at Heero, a soldier recognizing another soldier, two men who cared deeply about the same girl and whose lives always seemed to be caught up by events. There was acceptance, and bestowed honor, in both tacit exchanges.

Damion's attention was on Heero now and they were speaking to one another in a very casual, but guarded way. It seemed that their fight and the talking they had done afterward had broken the ice and removed the barriers, but both of them were still behaved a little coldly. After a moment's observation, Relena didn't think much of it. There was a friendliness between the two men; it was just reserved. Heero was Heero and Damion had changed. They knew they were friends without having to be obvious about it. It was what they both preferred.

"Where have you been?" Heero asked in a muted tone.

"I went to see Pastor Howel," Damion replied. "Or that's where I ended up anyway."

"About Audrey?" Relena asked.

"No. Manny," Damion said.

No one said anything more about that. Manny was a touchy subject and they all knew it. Duo even looked a little pale when the name was mentioned, like it was a gong struck in a silent room. However, Damion seemed more relaxed. He didn't look like he wanted to talk about it, but the rage and the despair she had seen in his eyes before were gone, or at least faded. It was like he had made a kind of peace with Manny being dead, and accepted it, but now just had to deal with it, which he wasn't going to do right now. Of course, it wasn't something anyone could do and be done with. Damion just had to get used to life without his constant companion, and that would take time.

After a minute of awkward silence, Damion turned his head to look around the room. "I should go back," he said. "We'll be starting any minute and I need to be up front."

"Are you excited?" Duo asked. "About getting married?"

"Terrified is more like it," Damion said.  "But yeah. I am." 

"She'll be beautiful, Damion," Relena said. "In that dress with her hair done and everything. You won't have time to think about anything else."

He smiled at her, a soft, gentle curving of the lips. "Thank you," he said. "I have to go. It's good to see you all here."

As Damion left, Duo snickered. "I'll bet he wishes he could have had your wedding, Heero! Not that that's going to get you off the hook or anything. Remember, you promised. I get to be the best man!" Duo looked decidedly pleased with himself until Hilde punched him in the shoulder.

The flurry in the crowd was settling. Relena noticed abruptly that everybody was seated and the loud talk throughout the room had dropped to a conversational murmur of people waiting in their seats. A few people were still moving around, but they were mostly security and the people who were making sure everything was in place for the ceremony. She could tell who was doing the most directing by the headsets they wore and the way they stayed in the shadows of the room. Up front, Damion waited with someone who looked like a member of his advisory staff. Relena supposed he was the minister of ceremony or something like that. Surrounded by the glow of the candles, Prince Damion drew all eyes.  There were other people up there as well, including Damion's mother (no longer dressed in black, but a beautiful indigo blue), two sharply dressed servants carrying small, gilded cases that they held with both hands, the clergyman who would perform the wedding ceremony, and Leif. Relena looked again at Leif. It really was him, dressed head to toe in an expensive black suit with a dagger of all things belted at his waist and looking both very regal and very proud.

"Personal bodyguard," Heero explained when she asked. "Damion hired a lot of the men who came for him to be on his new guard. It's a high honor."

"Hey," Duo exclaimed. "Isn't that the same dagger that…"

"Yeah," Heero said in such a way that Duo snapped his mouth shut.

"Oh," Relena murmured. "The music is starting."

Except for the music, the whole room became dead silent, which was quite a wonder considering how many people were packed into the space.  All heads turned.  There was no procession of flower girls, bridesmaids or a maid of honor, but Audrey did not walk in alone. The bride entered on her father's arm and when she came into view everyone stood. Audrey's father was dressed in his military uniform, the uniform of a respected and retired admiral, but he was drowned out by his daughter. The guards saluted and murmurs rippled down the hall.

Audrey glowed like an angel from heaven. Her dress seemed to shimmer, a flash of white light in a room glowing with yellow candle flame. She was like the white foam of the crest of a wave or the wing of a dove, a star in the heavens, a pearl in the sand. The sleeves lifted up at the shoulders and the skirt spilled all over the floor in layers of white silk and pearl-studded satin. The train rippled along the floor behind her feet. It looked like a twenty thousand dollar dress. Her skin was pale and creamy, but the dark contrast of her eyes and hair was what made the room murmur in wonder. Her hair was pulled up somehow without hairspray, and looked as soft as it did shiny. It was pulled up, but it poured over her shoulders in perfect soft, perfect curls.   It would fall at any moment and instead of sticking out strangely because of hairspray, would bounce back over her shoulders and glisten like black silk cloth or liquid pitch. Only it didn't fall. Threaded with strands of pearls and (were they sapphires?) it stayed perfectly in place. The way Audrey carried herself made it seem as if she willed it that way. Her carriage was erect, her chin lifted, and her dark eyes glittered with wisdom and humility. The only way Relena could tell she was nervous was that she didn't smile, though there was a glow in her eyes and in her expression. For whatever reason, she did not wear a veil.

Quickly, Relena stole a look at Damion. For a moment he actually looked a little frightened, as if he really did think this woman was an angel from heaven and he had made some sort of mistake, but when she came near, he straightened and they exchanged a glance that seemed to settle them both. Both their faces smoothed out before the pictures came.  They almost looked like they were conducting business, except for the subtle shimmer in their eyes. Audrey's father surrendered Audrey's arm to Damion with a nod at the prince and then took a seat in the first row. Slowly, Damion took Audrey's hand, staring into her face, and then they both turned to the pastor. 

The ceremony was different, but most of the key points were still there. Relena would always remember how solemn the occasion was. Perhaps it was Damion's sadness, or Audrey's, but the joy such a joining normally would have inspired seemed suffocated by the nervousness of the two participants, especially following Damion's tragedy. It was difficult to hear the words the clergyman was speaking from this far away, but Relena remembered the ceremony well enough. She was a little surprised when Heero grasped her hand and stroked her fingers, but she was pleased. Damion was speaking, though no one could hear him, and then Audrey spoke too. They looked at each other's eyes as they spoke, and whatever they said, they seemed to mean every syllable. And then they were exchanging rings.

There was a breathless silence in the hall. The beauty of the room and the solemnity of a royal wedding held attention spans fast. Damion took Audrey's hand and slipped a golden band on her finger. It met with the engagement ring she already wore, the fractured faces of diamond flashing and glittering in the light, and joined with it. Audrey slid a ring on Damion's hand too, a small band of metal that encircled his finger. 

That was when the difference in the ceremony became obvious. More words were spoken that Relena couldn't hear, though she imagined they came across loud and clear on television. At any rate, the cases that the servants had been carrying were opened and the entire audiences drew breath as too crowns were removed by white-gloved hands of servants from the red velvet interior of the cases. The crowns were fairly small, gold, ceremonial, beautiful, and looked to be worth a fortune. 

Both Audrey and Damion knelt, Damion's right hand clasping Audrey's left, and bowed their heads. Damion's mother spoke, loud enough for everyone to hear as she relinquished all ruling authority to her son, the new king of Taravren. Relena's throat felt tight as the crown was placed upon Damion's head. It seemed to have been tempered just to fit him, and she knew that both crowns were not newly made; they were very old heirlooms, possibly redesigned every so often. Even so, they looked heavy, and drew every eye. With just as much ceremony, Damion's mother placed a crown on Audrey's head, and then knelt to kiss the girl on the cheek before she rose and stepped back with folded hands. After that the pastor spoke again, representing the church's recognition of the King and Queen of Taravren. With his blessing, Damion and Audrey rose, still hand in hand. Damion's expression was flat and grave. His eyes stayed on Audrey, who looked pale and equally serious as she stared at him, until with the pastor's permission, Damion lean in to kiss her. 

Cheers resounded around the room and Relena relaxed the stiffening in her knees, overwhelmed by the flood of emotion from the audience. She was glad a lot of this was ceremonial and traditional (those crowns were likely never to be worn past the hour), but she couldn't dismiss the feeling in her breast. The shouting was intense. Everyone clapped, younger people hollered and some even stamped their feet aggressively. When Damion raised his head from Audrey's face, staring into her eyes for a moment, and then looked out over the audience, his eyes flashing. Audrey kept her eyes closed a moment longer, but when she opened them, she smiled at Damion so slightly and so sweetly it was almost hard to notice. 

And then they were leaving.  They strode down the aisle in a long stride, matching each other's pace, seemingly deaf to the noise that reverberated around them.  Their expressions were perfectly controlled.  Audrey stood as tall and proud as ever, her train sweeping out behind her, her hand around Damion's arm.  When she looked at him a look almost like shyness swept over her face, but when she looked away she radiated beauty and power.  Damion was more imposing altogether, but his expression when he glanced at her was tender, almost warm.  Relena smiled as they passed, but neither caught her eye.

Once they had gone through the doors with guards following, everyone began to get up and talk. Some people followed the couple out to watch them make their way through the crowd and drive back to the palace, and others began getting ready to either go to the reception or go home. Relena surprised herself when she blinked tears from her eyes, overwhelmed by the emotional shift of seriousness to gaiety in the room. For the crowning, it would likely be several days of partying in Taravren, and the excitement of that plus a marriage bubbling out of people in the room was enough to knock her off her feet.

"Let's go," Heero said in her ear.

She nodded, taking his arm, Duo and Hilde climbing out of their seats behind them, laughing like children. 

*****

Audrey's heart pounded in her breast as Damion grabbed her about the waist to help her out of the car. His hands felt strong, strong enough to practically lift her out onto the pavement, which was something considering how much her dress weighed. She couldn't describe how she had felt walking down that aisle with him and half the world staring at her. She felt exalted and humbled at the same time, proud and terrified. She didn't calm down until she felt the wedding band wrap around her finger, and then the crown on her head had just made things worse. It felt more like a weight in her stomach, but it kept her grounded and reminded her who she was now. Even so, she had removed it once they got in the car. Damion did too, and both heirlooms were entrusted to the chauffeur to be locked up in the vault. 

Once inside the palace, heads turned to welcome them, along with cheering and clapping. Audrey smiled, but hardly slowed their race upstairs to the royal chamber. No one minded. They had to change and be back downstairs in minutes, before the guests arrived. Everybody was busy. Audrey held as much of her train as she could in her arm, but the thing really was quite ridiculous, much too large and expensive to wear at the party.

Damion opened the door for her and shut it just as quickly and led from the antechamber to the bedroom. For a moment, Audrey panicked, recognizing where she was, her eyes drawn almost automatically to the large fore-post bed. This was their quarters, hers and Damion's, and that was the room where later they would sleep together very soon. 

"What dress are you wearing?" Damion asked her, throwing open the closet doors. Many of her things had already been moved.

She scrunched her eyes closed and trying to rein in her racing, whirling thoughts. "The blue one." She lifted a hand and tried to move toward the closet, but she almost tripped over her train.

Damion pulled the dress out for her and tossed it on the bed. "Let me help you out of that," he muttered, his gray eyes catching hers and then darting away.

She froze as he put a hand on her shoulder and turned her gently. His hand began undoing the buttons, slipping the pearls out from the slots. Her breaths came more heavily as the material loosened around her torso. Damion would be able to see her sheer silk slip and a lot of her bare back besides, and it was an effort not to shiver. Her stomach trembled, but he didn't say anything. Her heart beat in her chest a mile a minute. This was incredibly, terrifyingly awkward. It took all her strength to keep from laughing hysterically. 

"I can get it now," she said with a voice that at first almost squeaked and then just sounded distant even to her own ears.

Damion's hands stopped moving. "All right," he said. "Hurry. They're waiting."

He turned away from her and she heard muffled sounds as he discarded his own robes hurriedly and replaced them with a black tuxedo coat from the closet. She knew that he was mostly dressed under his robes. She wasn't, but to her surprise, he kept his back turned as she hurriedly removed her dress (getting out of it was rather complicated). Clothed in nothing but a thin, sheer silk slip that ended just below her knees, she moved to the foot of the bed and lifted the blue dress off the bed. She panicked when she realized she would have to unbutton it just to get it on. Damion still wasn't looking at her as she sat carefully on the edge of the bed in nothing by a slip and began undoing the buttons at lightning speed.  If he turned around… Was it so strange that part of her wanted him to? As soon as she was able, she pulled the dress on over her head and smoothed it around her hips. 

She couldn't get all of the buttons in the back.

"Damion?" she said, closing her eyes and biting her lip, steeling herself. This shouldn't feel so entirely weird, but it did.

He turned and came without any more explanation and again she felt him standing behind her. He didn't touch her anywhere, only the buttons, doing them up with a single-mindedness that had to be forced. Once she was dressed, her hair still done up as elaborately as it had been for the wedding, she felt his knuckle touch her chin, turning her head around. Softly, he kissed her lips and looked into her eyes.  Her stomach fluttered and when he released her she could do nothing but stare into his eyes without blinking.

"You look beautiful," he told her, his hand softly curved around her shoulder. "Did you get the roses?"

"Yes," she said, and smile. "Thank you." The note alone had been enough to settle her. He told her not to worry, that he was coming, that he loved her, and that he was ready to marry her. She remembered the way the petals felt in her hands, soft and white and pale, a beautiful contrast to the dark green stems and little thorns that would pierce if you were not careful holding the flower. The note said the roses reminded Damion of her. She had almost cried. Seeing Damion at the altar, surrounded by more white roses, had quelled the rest of her fears. This would last forever. This would last, if they could get through tonight. She licked her lips, taking deep breaths, and looked into his eyes. She couldn't describe what she found there.

"Ready?" he said softly, taking her by the hand again. She nodded and let herself be pulled along as he opened the door.

Once they were descending the stairs into the quickly growing crowd, she pushed her anxiety away as far as it would go. There was enough to occupy her otherwise.  She had thought the church was elaborately decorated with the lights and the candles and the flowers covering everything, but the palace would take anyone's breath away. The chandeliers glistened. Buckets of ice chilled bottles of wine and champagne on tables covered with white tablecloth and there were no less than three stacks of champagne glasses arranged like pyramids. Servants dressed in tuxedos and white gloves with manners statelier than many of the guests, drifted through the room with trays of food and drinks or moistened towels. The guests were a rainbow of clothes and laughter. The men wore tuxedoes or fine suits with expensive cufflinks, the women wore gowns as beautiful as the sapphire blue one Audrey wore now, and every one of them was an important person or a member of a respected family. The entire Council body was present as well, though not working, most of them with family in toe. A royal wedding was a time of celebration and would be for several days. There would be feasting in another room, followed by dancing and socializing in yet another room.

At the bottom of the stairs, Damion smiled at her and leaned over to whisper into her ear.  His breath made her shiver, but she concentrated on his words. "I'm going to introduce you to everyone," he said.  When she didn't respond, he turned her so that she faced him, and wrapped both hands around his waist.  "It's okay," he said.  His smile lightened her heart.  "You are the Queen of Taravren, my wife."

"I know," she said, and felt relaxed all through her body.  She met his eyes and returned his smile with her smallest, most knowing expression.  He nodded.

Smiling to show her teeth, she took his arm as he led her into the crowd, greeting everyone who walked past her with a gracious smile and a few words. Damion greeted everyone too, and the flood of people coming toward them seemed to have no end. Audrey's hand was kissed so many times she thought it might leave a bruise. But all of that was drowned out beside Damion. As more people surrounded them, she became increasingly aware of how well she could feel him, how much she understood of what he was thinking merely by listening to his body. The was a subtle tenseness about him, but he seemed like he was trying to relax and be merry, and pulling it off well enough. Though she knew it was ridiculous, she found herself wanting to hug him, to keep other girls away and also to feel his arms around her. She wanted him to kiss her too. She loved that, but thinking of enjoying such simple things did nothing to assuage her other fears. It was one thing to kiss a man she loved and hold him, but quite another to strip off all their clothes and have sex. There was a sweet feel to the idea of such intimacy, but she kept thinking what it would really be like, and she knew she was afraid to let anyone that close.  With an effort, she pushed the idea firmly from her mind, burying it deep, and concentrated on the party.

Everyone wanted to meet her. Damion introduced her to everyone he had ever known it seemed, and each time, she couldn't help but smile genuinely as he addressed her as his wife. It occurred to her that when meeting people and introducing her, Damion seemed happy, smiling, and she wondered at the sudden change.  She glanced at him every now and then, watching the way his eyes didn't seem to blink, the way he stood straight up and down with perfect posture. Was having her for a wife so wonderful that he had completely forgotten the death of his best friend, or was he putting on a show for their audience? She couldn't tell. He was hard to read when he really did not want anyone to be able to sort out his thoughts.

Eventually, the endless stream cleared out and they stood alone in a room full of people talking and drinking. As soon as everyone was gone, Damion's smile relaxed into something sad and distant. Audrey touched his arm near the shoulder with concern, love for him filling her up in every cranny. "Are you all right?" she asked him.

He shook his head as if to clear his thoughts, blinking. "I'm fine," he said. "I was just thinking that it is a shame Terese isn't here to see this and it doesn't feel right without her.  She worked so hard…" Of course that would remind him why she had gone, but he smiled at her when she expressed concern. "I'm okay," he said reassuringly. "Do you want something to drink?"

Before she could answer, Audrey and Damion were accosted by Heero, Relena, Duo and Hilde. For a brief moment, Damion looked embarrassed seeing them. Audrey remember his last encounter with them, the look on his face, the way he had shouted and raged… but he welcomed them both formally and friendly. 

"I'm sorry about what happened before," Damion said apologetically, shaking hands with Duo.

"Don't worry about it," Duo said, waving a hand. "It's your day today and it was understandable.  Forget about it."

Damion smiled.

Dinner was served in a blur of talking and joking and trying to feel like royalty while eating. Damion was strangely very easy and relaxed about his role, or seemed to be, but then, he knew almost everyone in the room and it was his birthright. She didn't know what half the things they were eating were called, but it all tasted marvelous and seemed to melt on the tongue. Duo and Hilde seemed to be making a game out of picking apart their food trying to discover what is was. Heero looked like he either would rather not know or didn't care and Relena ate with a grace and casualty that had Audrey thinking she would make a better Queen. All through dinner Audrey and Damion were visited by guests and members of the Council, receiving an endless stream of congratulations and compliments. There was no best man's toast because there was no best man and no one else seemed up for making a toast on the behalf of the king and queen of Taravren. When he wasn't entertaining guests, Damion didn't look like he wanted to be toasted anyway. Audrey knew it had nothing to do with her.

As they were served dessert, music drifted through the hall from the ballroom. As tables finished eating, people folded their cloth napkins and removed to the ballroom to listen to the live music and talk.  When Audrey set down her silverware, Damion looked in her direction and raised his eyebrows.  She looked back at him wryly, knowing that no one was going to dance until they did.  Seeing the acceptance in her eyes, Damion glanced at the others for their approval. Relena and Duo waved for them to go, as they, Heero and Hilde were all in deep, but casual conversation about what would be appropriate if Relena had a reception like this. Damion smiled at Audrey again, his gray eyes shining under his dark hair.

"Do you want to dance?" he asked, standing and pushing his chair in.

She nodded and set her hand in his, amazed by how gently yet firmly his fingers curled around hers. She walked with him out to the dance floor, feeling flushed as all eyes followed them. Under the lights, she and Damion turned so that they were facing each other and his grip on her hand shifted so that he was clasping the whole of it. His other hand went around her waist, again both firmly and gently. Her hand rose to his shoulder, but she stroked the lapels of his jacket smooth on her way up, smiling at him. He smiled back just slightly and they began dancing.

"Are you happy?" he asked her quietly when the music covered their conversation. They had the floor to themselves.

"Yes," she said, and smiled.  She meant it.  When she looked into his face she felt her stomach flutter, the way it did when she looked out over the ocean and felt that sense of wonder and completeness she could never quite describe.  Only now she wasn't alone.  "I'm a little overwhelmed," she admitted, "but… When I saw you this morning I just knew…"

His eyes captivated her.  "I like seeing you smile," he said warmly.  The warmth was real, but there were still shadows in his eyes from all he had been through, though not when he looked at her.  Even so, she could see them, and wept internally for the part of him that could not seem to recover.  "You worked things out with your father?"

"As well as they could be in a few hours. He never really meant to hurt either my mother or me. He knows he did, but it took him awhile to find the courage to come home. It's going to take a lot of time."

"Yeah," Damion said, looking distracted. Audrey smiled, aware suddenly of how she had always been amused whenever the Prince of Taravren lapsed into casual speech.  He did it frequently, she realized, uttering monosyllabic yeahs and sures in answer to questions that sometimes required a more formal answer.  It was one of the things she first noticed and liked about him, something that set him apart.  Her heart fluttered with love for this young Prince who was so sweet and recently so unfortunate.  When she smiled, he smiled back.  "You look beautiful tonight."

Warmth suffused her cheeks. "You said that already."

He lowered his head and smiled another little smile. Again, she wanted to kiss him, and more, but that sliver of fear that was always present.

The song ended, but when the second began they kept dancing. Audrey wanted to put her head on Damion's shoulder and be held tight, but she refrained, knowing how many people were watching and judging. She didn't want to look like a little girl in love under the eyes of the Council and local nobility, nor as woman too besotted to appear to have any wits left. Damion kept his hands still too, probably for the same reasons. She knew he was still occupied by a great many things, but he seemed content to hold her and forget his troubles. She wondered what he was thinking about. With great courage, she returned his question. "Did you work things out?" she asked him quietly.  She wondered if he was still bruised and bleeding on the inside.  But he looked easier.  She hoped…

He took a deep breath. "I'm willing to let Gardiner go if that's what you mean," he told her. "And Manny too." He sounded so sad when he said it, like it hurt. "If you're asking if I'm still deeply affected, I think so, but with time and with you…" he paused, looking thoughtful.  "I don't think I'll ever really be the same."

She gripped his hand tighter. "I know," she said.  He would never be quite the same, just as she would never be able to completely forget the hostility she had grown up with under her mother's jaded care. There was still a coldness about him, a chill aura of grief and sorrow that lingered even when he smiled. She hoped it would go away. Something like that used to hover around her. It still did when she wanted to protect herself, but Damion had warmed it somewhat. She hoped she could do the same for him. Between the ceremony and the greeting and dinner and now the dancing, she wondered abstractedly what time it was.

"Past eleven," Damion said, and she realized she had spoken out loud. His hand tightened around her waist and he pulled her a little closer. They were more lost among the other couples now and there was nothing unusual about dancing this close. Audrey's breath felt constricted. She could feel Damion's presence all through her body this close. She could hear him breathing.  She knew then what he was thinking about.  Only eleven.

They danced four dances and then took a break. More people chatted with them individually, and servants offered them wine, which Audrey refused simply because she was full from dinner.  Scanning the crowd, she searched for Heero and Relena, but she could not find them.

She was startled when Damion touched her hand. "We need to go," he said.

She stared at him for a minute without comprehension.

"Others will see the guests out," he told her.  His tone was so normal, she knew he had to be trying to make it that way.  "We're supposed to retire before everyone is gone and a lot of people are leaving."

Retire.

"Where are Heero and Relena?" she asked.

"I think they left," he said.  "They wanted time to themselves."  Even as he answered her question, his eyes were riveted to her face.  Something unspoken lurked in his eyes.  He wasn't thinking about Heero and Relena.

Her breath caught in her throat, recognizing that look.  It was time.  She had thought, almost hoped, it would never come, and a part of her had been waiting.  Her head felt light, like it was stuffed with cotton and she swallowed nervously.

Nodding with more confidence then she felt, she headed for the stairs with him. On the first step, Damion stopped and she stopped with him. He turned to his guests, many of them still celebrating and a few getting their coats. One of the servants clinked on a glass and the chatting ceased. All eyes turned on them. Audrey stood as proud as she ever had, but inside she was shaking. "Thank you all for coming," Damion said loudly, smiling. A thousand sets of eyes stared back. "I thank you, my wife thanks you and Taravren thanks you. I am afraid my wife and I must retire, but I hope to enjoy a long reign with all of you. Enjoy yourselves. My hospitality is yours." 

Cheering answered this departing announcement along with some scattered clapping. A moment later everyone had gone back to their conversations, their drinks and their laughter. Those who had been on their way home shrugged on their coats and walked out the door. Audrey knew that everyone knew why they were retiring early, though nobody so much as glanced at them. She caught sight of Duo and Hilde before she turned. Hilde was sitting on a table in her dress, laughing. Duo stood just in front of her, gesturing with his hands as if telling a joke. Then he abruptly leaned in and kissed Hilde on the mouth where she sat. Averting her eyes, Audrey followed Damion upstairs, feeling like there were frogs in her stomach.  Her eyes traced the lines of his body and she shivered from head to toe. 

*****

Back in their hotel room, Heero was aware only of Relena's hands and body, her fingers buried in his hair, digging into his scalp above his ears and behind his head.  She was drawn into his lap, her body flush up against his.  He held her more gently than she did him, kissing her neck and chin and swell of her breasts.

Her dress lay on the floor in a heap with his clothes and there were pearls from her hair in their bed, lost in the sheets he had kicked back to make room for them.  His hands wandered into her hair, tugging at the silky strands and rubbing them into her back as he leaned into her.  His weight threatened to push her backward off of him and onto her back on the bed.  Of course, he would follow.  That wouldn't have been so bad, but she chuckled into his kiss as he shifted with the idea in mind.

"What?" he asked laconically.

She caressed his skin on his back and he caught her smile in her eyes. "Heero," she whispered.  "Do you want to have a baby?"

He blinked in complete incomprehension. "What?"

"Not now," she said, and her eyes drifted half shut as she stroked his face with her hand.  "But do you want to have children?"

He swallowed.  Her hand on his cheek was the only thing cooling him.  He imagined a little girl with Relena's blonde hair and his eyes that he could hold when she was tired, imagining the feel of a little girl's arms wrapped around his neck. He saw a little boy with his dark hair and her blue eyes holding a basketball and asking his father to teach him how to play.  The girl would smile like her mother's kindness and the boy would glare like him.  He would probably have to tell his son to be nice to his sister.  They would both be spirited like their mother, determined and stubborn and…. They would be a handful.  His children and her children…

"Heero?" she said, sounding more anxious. 

"Yeah," he said, kissing her.  

"Do you mean it?" she whispered, her wet lips touching his as he laid her the rest of the way down.

He grazed her lips with his tongue. "Yeah.  Someday. When we go home and after we fix the house…"  His body reacted to the feel of hers spread out beneath him, the silky softness of her skin.  "We'll talk about it later."  

*****

The party vanished from Audrey's mind the second the door shut.  She felt like she had been standing still here for an eternity.

Damion didn't speak until they entered their rooms. Servants had come through to remove Damion's formal robes and Audrey's wedding dress. They had also set out wine in an iced bucked and turned down the bed. Audrey stood still beside one of the bedposts, trying not to look at it, as Damion kept walking. She watched him remove his cufflinks and head toward the bathroom. Halfway there, he removed his coat and flung it over a chair. Then he removed his shoes and set them beside the wall.

"Long day," he said conversationally. The door to the bathroom was open and she could see him undoing the black bow tie of his tuxedo in front of the mirror. Then he turned on the water over the sink.  Just watching him, she could feel the tension.  Neither of them were thinking about anything accept the other, and not sure how to communicate it.

Audrey looked away, unsure what it was she was supposed to do. This was it. It was time. She could not escape and she had no where to go. But then, she didn't want to go anywhere.  Watching Damion all day she had been aware of this moment, of this night, trying to prepare for it.  Her body yearned for him in ways that frightened her. She tried to sort out her thoughts.  Fear made her tremble, but she loved him. 

Stepping out of Damion's eyesight, she moved over to the closet to calm herself.  She needed to do something practical.  Determination guided trembling fingers as she loosened the buttons of her dress. It was easier to get them undone than to do them up and she managed without help. Heart fluttering like the wings of a hummingbird, she carefully pulled the dress over her head and hung it up on a hangar. Putting it in the closet, she shivered in a silk slip. There was a mirror to her left, set up over an ornate dresser. 

All the lines of her body were clearly visible under that slip, as well as the lacy lingerie beneath. The slinky material went just past her knees, but it was thin and sheer and clung to the contours of her body. The skin from the tops of her breasts and all the way down her arms was completely bare. She had never been this uncovered in anyone's presence before, not since her body matured anyway. Gingerly, she began taking her hair down.  As she removed the pins, the curls fell loosely one by one over her shoulders, framing a face even paler than usual.  Even so, she thought she looked pretty.  Strange, that she should want to.  She shook her head when all the jewels were out and then counted them to make sure she had not lost any. Taking a deep breath, she walked back toward the bed, wondering what to do next when Damion came out of the bathroom.

She could feel his eyes on her before she turned around, a prickling between her shoulder blades, made all the worse because her back was bare.  Heat pumped through her, but her limps and fingers felt stiff, paralyzed.  Slowly, she turned, taking a deep breath. The first few buttons to Damion's dress-shirt had been undone and the cuffs of his sleeves had been rolled up, but otherwise he was still fully clothed.

"I thought…" He swallowed.  "I thought we might talk a little," he said slowly, staring at her like she was an apparition, hardly able to form words.  His eyes were on her body, skimming the lines and curves that he had never clearly seen.  His eyes told her that he found her beautiful, even if he didn't say it.

Her own voice seemed lodged in her throat.  She thought of things she could tell him, should tell him, about how much she loved him, about how much she had been waiting for this moment, and also how terrified she was.  But she couldn't think of any words that were adequate, and no words at all took form in her head.  He looked good to her, so good, but she couldn't move.

Taking her silence in stride, Damion stepped close and put a hand around her waist.  Her eyes widened a little even when he smiled at her reassuringly. There was practically nothing between his hand and her bare skin and she could feel the warmth of the contact very clearly. His hand moved against the silk, as if seeking more to feel, lightly kneading the skin around her midriff. She took deep breaths to bring cold air into her body.  She felt heady, slightly drunk, and her blood seemed to pulse with sudden, sexual tension.  His other hand jumped to her neck, the fingers curving around the back behind her hair, partially holding her face with his thumb on her jaw.  His gray eyes seemed to glow as he looked at her and she relaxed a little, recognizing this touch, though she shivered.  His mouth sought hers and she accepted his kiss gratefully, almost greedily, tasting his lips and drawing warmth from them.  Her stomach quivered, but she suppressed her nervousness, trying to trap her thoughts in the moment. 

"I love you," he whispered into her ear.  He drew a hand from her face to her neck and over the swell of her breast.  When she reacted, he gripped her about the waist and pulled her flush to him, his mouth meeting hers again.  She could feel his whole body.  Hers seemed to buzz with electricity.

She could feel his love for her as he continued to kiss her, but her head began to swim.  His kisses made her want to… She shook in his embrace, trembling.  The lights swirled, the ground seemed to leap up at her and she stiffened her knees to keep from wilting.  Automatically, her old, defensive walls formed around her, supporting her, guarding her from the intimacy that threatened to overwhelm and consume her.  Damion was still kissing her, but her reactions were more guarded.  She was afraid to let herself give in.  Calmly, she reached for the buttons on his shirt and mindlessly began to undo them one by one. His chin lowered, his eyes following her movements as he breathed, but he didn't say anything. The last and only time she had seen his chest it had been covered with bruises.  Shirt flaps hanging open, his chest and stomach were smooth and normal now. When the last button came apart, her fingers hovered in space, frozen.  Part of her wanted to touch him, to slide her hand around his back and pull him close, to sink into his skin, but she was afraid of that part.

He seemed to tense up, the muscles in his arms flexing. "What are you thinking about?" he said.  She knew that he had felt a change in her.  There was a strain in his voice, like he was trying to regain control.  His tone was almost an accusation that begged her to shout Gardiner's name. 

"Nothing," she said.  "I'm fine."

He kissed her lips again, holding her head in his hands, but more aggressively this time, as if trying to capture and possess her.  She would have been scared if she was not so numb.  And still there was that part of her that was reacting, that was begging her to let go of her fears and give into the desires she had dammed up. Afraid, she refused to give in or give back.  Still kissing her, Damion lowered his hands to her body, wrapping them around her ribs. She lifted her elbows to give him space and he ran both hands up over her breasts. She swallowed, but her breath was lodged in her throat.  Then he began to undress her, carefully peeling her slip from her shoulder, the straps falling loosely over her arms. A moment later and the whole thing slinked off her body and fell in a pool at her feet.  Naked, she just concentrated on keeping her desires under control, because they were threatening to flood her.  Damion clasped her whole body to him, feeling every curve, kissing her neck and face and wherever was within easy reach.  She trembled with every touch, her fear growing in proportion to her lust.  

Audrey had stopped moving. She remembered vaguely the foreplay of that night with Abel, and all the revulsion and fear and shame welled up with the memories. She reminded herself that this was Damion, her prince, her husband, and she loved him, but the stiffness in her limbs seemed out of her control. If he just kept going she wouldn't stop him.  The desire in her burned like an ember, but she had locked it in a box, refusing to fan the flame.  If he would just keep going…

Damion's head hit her shoulder and he stopped, breathing hard.  She heard him choke, a sound that made tears spring into her eyes suddenly in shame. His hands released her and he stepped back, staring at her in her with his eyebrows creased in a pained expression. "I can't," he said, sounding desperate and hurt. "Audrey, don't make me do this.  I can't.  I love you, but you have to let me.  I need you…" His breathing became more audible.  She could visibly see the lust in his eyes, natural sexual drive, warring for his love that kept him from wanting to hurt her.  His hands reached for her and grasped at air.

Tears sprang into her eyes and she kicked at her own walls, trying to break them down.  

"Audrey," he begged, and took her hand in his.  He pulled her close to him again, caressing her back, kissing her hair.  "I love you.  You mean everything to me.  If this is not what you want…"

It felt so wonderful.  She didn't really want him to stop.  With that simple admittance, the dam broke.  Heat washed over her, a frightening, yet exciting wave of sensuality. Tilting her head, she kissed him to stifle his words, pulling his head down to hers. When she broke the kiss, his head buried itself in her neck.  "I love you," she said into his ear, running her fingers through his hair. It felt nice under her touch.  Tenderly, she caressed his neck and kissed his cheek.  "And I want you," she added, "I'm scared, but I want you to make love to me.  Damion, please.  I do." As she spoke the words became more true.  Suddenly she needed him, wanted him.  She stroked his neck and put a hand on his bare chest.  His heart beat under her hand, surprising her.

He lifted his head. The light in his eyes seemed softer now, like the Damion she remembered, and his lips curved in a sweet, small smile.  He had his arm wrapped around her waist with the cuffs of his sleeve dangling over his fingers now and pulled her into an embrace right up against his chest. His hands grasped her hips, fingers reaching down toward her thighs, and he began kissing her skin again, his hands running along her body, caressing her curves.

She trembled, gasping at his sudden aggressiveness, but she could feel his heart beating, his blood pumping, more quickly the more he touched her, and his skin was surprisingly smooth, yet hard from the muscles beneath.  She whimpered and he groaned in response, muttering her name in her ear like a fervent chant.  He was pulling the walls down with every kiss and caress and she closed her eyes, brows knitting as she made little sounds half in encouragement and half in protest.  As she became more worked up, she suddenly didn't care anymore.  She just didn't want it to stop.  With that thought, he broke through her like a tidal wave and she allowed herself to be possessed.  Hands wrapping around his chest under his shirt, sliding along his back, she craned her neck to kiss him.

He made a sound in the back of his throat and to her surprise, lifted her off the ground and laid her on the bed in what seemed like one motion. She quelled a surge of fright, feeling him hover over her, but it was the kind of fright that came when boarding a roller coaster.  Something in her wanted to hit those peaks and make those dives.  The pillows came up behind her head and he was leaning over her with his elbows to either side of her body, his shirt hanging open. "I love you," he said, and his eyes reminded her of rain or clouds or liquid silver.  Shrugging out of his shirt, he leaned forward on his elbows to kiss her again, hands pushing her hair away from her face. They opened their mouths at the same time, and she was so absorbed by the feeling of his tongue in his kiss, the feel of his upper body over hers just felt right. 

She opened her eyes, not realizing she had closed them.  "Oh," she said.  "Damion, I'm ready now."  She wasn't sure how she knew, but she could believe she had been afraid of this.  The revelation was followed by a little laugh that escaped her as anxious tension was released.  When she laughed, Damion smiled genuinely, and then kissed her again before he got to work.

What she remembered best about it was the way his presence filled her, his scent and his body and his arms, everything about him flooding her senses.  At worst it was a little awkward…at best…. She smiled deliciously.  When it was over he breathed heavily, kissing her neck and shoulders softly and rubbing his face in her skin. Audrey opened her eyes and smiled at her lover, drowning in the emotion of his gray eyes. She wanted to tell him she loved him. She wanted him to hold her forever. Caught up by a swell of emotion, she kissed him, feeling something like tears in her eyes, and stroked the back of his neck with her hand. It came to her suddenly that this was the first night of many that were to come and that she would be his wife for the rest of her life.

"What?" he said, kissing back. "Are you sad? I…"

"I love you," she whispered. "And I'm so happy. Will you hold me?"

He looked amazed, but he rolled them both over until she was lying flush up against his body. For a few minutes she just kissed him, but he looked so tired that she eventually stopped. She couldn't tell if she felt older or younger, more of a woman or more of a child. Perhaps there was no change at all. What she was sure of was that she wasn't going anywhere and didn't want to.  He blinked his eyes sleepily and caressed her shoulders and arms with his hands, turning her body so that she was tucked against him and he could stroke her everywhere. Lying there, she wondered if she had lost her head or just her mind. Every nerve in her body was tingling, but her consciousness was sinking fast.

"I love you," she heard him murmur.  He fell asleep almost before she closed her eyes, and the quiet sound of his breathing lulled her to rest too.

AH!  I forgot to tell you!!  It's NOT over.  There's ONE more chapter.  *chagrin* Sorry!


	31. The End

Temper the Soul

Chapter 31

By zapenstap

There were some sights and scents that were more lovely in dreams than in reality, or so Damion thought until a light and a warmth flooded through his body and he awoke into his own dream by a kiss.

Long, dark silky hair brushed through his vision like a curtain, trailing along the side of his face, and he closed his eyes as he became more aware of soft lips pressed up against his mouth and the soft, sweet smell of a woman in his nose. Recognizing the woman, he kissed her reflexively and smiled. When she pulled away, he woke fully, opening his eyes to look into Audrey's face. Automatically he started touching her, sitting up and gently trailing his hands over her bare shoulders and back as she fell willingly into his embrace. 

Her skin was even softer and silkier than he had imagined before yesterday, and there was more of her to touch than he had thought. She murmured quietly under his stroking. He lay back down with her body in his arms, feeling helpless and satisfied and…happy. 

"You slept through the night," Audrey told him as he brushed back her hair. "You hardly stirred. Did you dream?"

"Nice dreams," he said, studying her face, "nicer than I've had since he died, nicer than even before then." He stopped to look at her again. "How are you? Are you feeling okay?" He touched her face, remembering the night, the sensations, the sounds, the pleasures he had felt. "Can I get you anything?"

She smiled at him and shook her head. "No. No, I am fine. I don't think I've ever felt this good."

On a whim he kissed her, hard and forceful until she relaxed and accepted it, giving way. Damion couldn't believe how subtle she was, how she responded to his every touch and how quickly. He kissed her until he felt he must do more or burst. There was no reason they couldn't do more, any time and any place they liked, but at the moment he knew there wasn't time, at least, not time for the way he wanted it. It was still too new, too fresh, to be carefree, and he owed her something that would take more patience.

Audrey laughed lightly like a bird when he broke the kiss, smiling so genuinely his heart thudded even harder than it did from the feel of her skin against his. Laughter from her was the finest music he had ever heard and her body naked and tangled in the sheets the most beautiful sight. "If I had known it would be like this I would never have been scared," she said, calming down and holding his arms. There was a rosy hue in her cheeks, a modest blush that was contrasted by a knowing look in her eye. He wanted to be the only man who would ever see that look. He would be. He was.

Was she making light of it or merely saying she enjoyed it? He blinked at her for a moment. "Ah, you say that now," he said seductively, raising his eyebrows, "but I'm not done with you yet."

Her eyes widened a fraction, but immediately she settled back against the pillows with an almost rapt look on her face, staring at him with expectation…and desire. His hand touched her stomach and he stared at her body, at her breasts and her legs and the bare skin between. His head felt inflated and he stirred inwardly, but with an effort he only smiled at her and shook his head. 

"What?" she said, sitting up again. 

"Later," he said. "I will make love to you all night if you want, but right now we have to pack."

"Pack?" she said, and then with equal surprise and a bit of whisper added, "All night?"

His breathing deepened as he lifted a hand to her face and kissed her softly. "Yeah. Where do you want to go? I want beaches and waves and tropical drinks, but it's up to you if you want to go to Hawaii or Jamaica or the Caribbean or Mexico or the Bahamas…"

She stared at him in some lack of comprehension. "The Bahamas," she said, and he couldn't tell if she was asking a question, restating an option or making a decision, but he grabbed at it.

"The Bahamas," he agreed. "For a honeymoon, and some time for me to get away from my memories and concentrate on you. It was suggested by the Council and now… Now I think it's a good idea. Is it okay with you?"

"I've never heard anything more appealing," she said, still sounding dazed. "When do we leave?"

He closed his eyes and kissed her forehead. "Right now," he whispered quietly. "Get packed."

She climbed out of bed and he couldn't help staring at her body, wondering if he could make it to the Bahamas before he had to touch her again. In a tropical setting with no work to do and nothing to remind him of Manny or Gardiner or his own responsibilities, he would not feel guilty about obsessing about his new wife, or making love to her whenever they wanted. He could take some time away from the grief that being in Taravren only multiplied and work out the troubled knots in his head. He was pretty sure Audrey could smooth out any knots with her hands, or maybe her lips, if she would. They could teach each other what they wanted. He would do anything for her.

She was still dressing when he came up behind her and put his hands on her hips, his fingers wrapping around her stomach. Instead of flinching, she leaned back against him and held onto his wrists, seeming to want to keep him there instead of pushing him away. It was going to be hard getting to the Bahamas.

"When I next make love to you," he told her, and turned her head to kiss her jaw. She closed her eyes and smiled. "I promise you will see stars. I want you to feel everything possible."

"Damion…" she began, almost in protest. He was so silent she paused, as if reconsidering what she was about to say. "I would like that," she said finally. "But if you…"

"I'll show you what I want too," he said. "But I promise, even if it takes a million tries…" He grinned behind her ear. "You'll see fireworks. You will." He was determined to make it happen and he could sense that she knew that. He felt her shiver under his fingers, smiling in anticipation with her head thrown back against his shoulder. "The quicker we get there the quicker it can happen," he added.

He set about packing himself, but even doing something so focused he could scarcely keep his eyes and hands off her. The best part was that she didn't seem to be able to leave him alone either and they got ready with a constant exchange of touching and kissing and soft words. He wanted to roll her onto the bed right then, but he could wait now that he knew she was his forever. He was going to find it difficult to think about anything else for awhile. Willingly, he let his other troubles drop away.

*****

Heero placed the grocery bags on the counter, eight in all, and began unloading boxes and cans and bags of fresh fruit and vegetables. He had never stocked a new kitchen before, but there was practically nothing in his new home except his wife. They had a bit of furniture and some of the things they both had in their separate apartments, but there was a lot of empty space that needed filling. Heero had decided that filling the refrigerator and the cupboards took precedence over filling the bookshelves and setting knick-knacks around the living room. He left most of that sort of decorating to Relena, though he told her to keep things simple if she would. 

Even with boxes still everywhere and so much empty space, the place felt like something Heero had never really had before…home. There was a quiet and peaceful sense about it that was both comfortable and yet kept him alert and bewildered all the time. The first day they came back, Relena called for carpeting to be put in, a light tan in most of the rooms, and had the wood floor in the kitchen and entry hall polished. They were still debating over wallpaper and Relena was insistent that they must have paintings or some sort of decorations on the walls in most the rooms. Relena had brought a few of her own things, but it was not nearly enough. They could spend several years, maybe their whole lives, saving up for the things to make the house perfect to Relena's satisfaction.

Heero didn't mind. He would put up wallpaper if she wanted wallpaper. He would pick out paintings if she wanted paintings. He wasn't much of a connoisseur for art, but he could recognize the decent from the terrible and he had a general idea of what he would like if it came to it. He didn't think it would be too much of a problem agreeing. They could always split up the rooms.

With comfortable thoughts, he set about putting soup cans in the cupboard and milk and cheese in the refrigerator. When all the groceries were put away he walked around the counter (a new kitchen installed just yesterday) and went to search the house for Relena. He found her almost immediately, leaning against the rail on the wrap around porch, dressed in a blue dress that made her look younger in some ways, but still as deep and beautiful and confounding as ever.

Confounding. That's what is was, the mysterious quality of her that whispered to him like a song just out of hearing. Even in the past, in the midst of everything, it was like that. They could always look at each other and see…something familiar. And it sang. Whatever it was it had always confused him and yet called him deeper was like a tune he couldn't quite grasp, though he felt like he knew every note. It was different now. He had claimed her. It was less like a call now and more like music, a deep, thundering, but gentle song that caught them both up together in a dance that never ceased though the tempo changed. This was love. Whatever it was, he was sure of that, and it always had been.

He didn't say anything as he walked up behind her and touched her shoulder. She turned her head and smiled at him, her hair falling over her face. Sometimes he was struck by her beauty and sometimes she just looked like Relena. Both thoughts amazed him, and he was amazed all the time, though nothing about his expression would have indicated it. 

"It's finally real," Relena said, staring out over the countryside toward the city.

He touched her cheek with the back of his index finger and smiled. "I know."

Closing her eyes, she took his hand, turned it over and kissed it, burying her face in his palm. He raised his other hand to stroke her hair, and then lifted her chin to kiss her on the lips.

"Do you think Damion is as happy as I am?" Relena whispered when he pulled away.

"I don't know," Heero said. They had heard Damion went to the tropics with Audrey the day after their wedding. Heero couldn't imagine being depressed in the Bahamas with an inexhaustible bank account and a new wife, but they had all seen Damion spiraling through an array of black emotions in the last week. Heero could still clearly remember the way he had looked when they rescued him from a dungeon, bruised and torn, wild and enraged. Returning to Taravren, he had taking on a ruling authority, fired servants, reordered his staff, delegated responsibility of his duties, offended all his advisors and hardly slept. What with the horror of his experience, losing his best friend, his Staff Manager quitting, and his fiance an uncertain card, it was hard to say that even the Bahamas would make Damion happy again. Heero knew everyone in Taravren feared he would never be the same. "I really don't know," Heero said again. "I hope so."

*****

The waves of the ocean made a sound like a gentle roaring behind his back as Damion trudged up across the white sand to the patio outside the hotel. Tables were set up on the patio, white tables with umbrellas where couples and families sat eating and laughing. Audrey was sitting at one of those tables looking over the menu, a drink half empty by her left hand. Damion had gone to walk along the beach alone, listening to the mournful sound of the seabirds crying in the sky above and drowning his thoughts in the rhythm of the waves crashing on the shore. He looked back over the ocean, appreciating the way the sun gleamed off the water. In a way the beauty of the white sand beaches were only spoiled by the number of people sprawled out along the sand, but being a stranger among so many was comforting in its own way. Looking back toward the tables, he smiled.

Climbing the stairs to the patio, Damion sat down across from his wife. She smiled at him over the menu, her face flushed and her sunburns beginning to turn into a soft tan.  Her hair was a wavy mess around her face that seemed particularly sexy because he prided himself on owing to its condition. There wasn't time in the mornings or during the day to keep up a palace appearance, and if there was he found some time to muss her. The sunburns did crazy things to him the first time they made love after a day at the beach. The contrast in color from her bathing suit lines drew him to the relevant areas of her body like targets, and the hissing sounds she made when he touched the skin where she was burned made the sex seem especially sensitive.  That was when he had still been counting the number of times they had made love since the first.

Though the pleasures and experimentation of their sex life was the most exciting aspect of their marriage at the time, he felt warmest and happiest just loving her, talking and holding her and taking her out. They held long, deep conversations that lasted until late into the night and sometimes they just talked and laughed and discovered habits and interests that they had not known before. He was finding that there was always something new about her to learn, and that he liked learning it. It was as if he knew her soul and loved her for it already, but some of the pieces and experiences of her life were still new to him. He thought he might always be discovering her.

It worked both ways. She learned about him too, all the details of his life. It was unfortunate that telling her some of those things sunk him into a quiet place of grief and depression. He was hopelessly distracted, but he couldn't forget himself entirely and there were times when he would grow silent and stare out at nothing, wondering where Manny was and what he was doing, wondering what he would do when he got home. Audrey understood. She never said anything or told him how to feel. Sometimes, if he looked like he needed it, she would stroke him and whisper and sometimes leave him alone to think. Once she had led him to bed where he drowned himself in the scent of sweat on her skin, but she never judged him. In a little time, he always managed to dissolve his darker thought and resume his happiness in loving his wife. Audrey said she understood it would take time before Manny death and all that surrounded it were no longer painful and he could talk about them without sadness, but as long as he was being honest about his feelings and trying to work through it, she would be understanding.

He couldn't describe what it was like making love to her, and being able to do it over and over. At first she had been afraid but now she told him she loved it and loved him and to his mind everything was perfect. He still remembered arriving at their hotel and setting down their bags. The first thing she had done was start unbuttoning his shirt with a creased brow and hands that shook. They hadn't even unpacked. She whispered that she was going to get used to him as quickly as possible and he had better start early if he really wanted to love her a million times in order to keep his promise. Besides, she added, they needed to change clothes for the climate and there was no point getting dressed right away. It turned out he didn't need a million tries. For him, the second time was more intoxicating than the first and he made sure she felt it too. Afterwards, after much quiet whispers and gentle touches, they got dressed again, in clothing appropriate for the climate and location, and he took her out to dinner by the ocean. His eyes almost popped out of his head seeing Audrey stroll around in a flimsy, wrap-around skirt that showed her legs up to the tops of her thighs and a top that didn't cover her midriff and completely bared her arms. He glared at other men who looked at her and almost felt he should tell her to put on more clothes, but it was hot and he enjoyed looking. He didn't think she'd listen anyway. They made it through dinner casting each other suggestive looks throughout their conversation and were back in the hotel room earlier than either of them had planned.

No matter how many times he made love to her, something about her kept him wanting more, more of her body and more of her company. Sitting across the table from him, he just looked at her for awhile, appraising the creature who wore his wedding ring and feeling like he was lucky or blessed or something. He kept waiting for the reality to sink in. She was his wife. 

After ordering more drinks, Damion smiled and covered her hand with his. "I almost feel like I don't want to go home," he said, looking out over the beach. 

Audrey sighed, setting down her menu. "I suppose this can't last forever, though, can it?"

"The important stuff will," he assured her. "I'll miss the beach," he added wryly. "And the freedom."

She smiled at him. "You miss your work," she said knowingly, taking a sip of her drink.

"No I don't," he said stubbornly.

She grinned and leaned forward, her dark eyes shining. "Don't even think about lying to me, Damion, or I'll kick you. I know you needed a break, but admit it, you love your home and you miss everyone."

He opened his mouth to protest, but felt her toes slam against his leg. She raised her eyebrows, giving him another swift (though completely painless) kick in the shin. He grinned at her and gave in. He did miss home. He loved it here, but it was clearly a vacation spot, a fantasy, a paradise, not home. Besides, he wanted to mend all the mistakes he had made.  He missed Manny and he missed Terese, but there were other people he had offended, people he had frightened, people he had ignored. There were things to do. Life could not stop here forever.  

She made fun of him subtly throughout their meal and he let her, but not without getting in a few stabs of his own. By the time he had paid, he felt it might be necessary to pick her up and throw her in the ocean. Sensing he was about to move, she got up hurriedly from the table and was off the patio and on the beach before he could finish signing a payment slip. Then he was after her. 

She dodged past the people sunbathing and led him to an area of the beach that was less perfect and more deserted. There were large, dark rocks protruding into the ocean and he suddenly wondered what was on the other side. Eventually, he caught up with Audrey. He was careful tripping her in the sand, but he did manage to topple her over, driving her into the beach with his weight. She screamed playfully as he wrapped his arms around her waist and picked her up, sand getting between their clothes and showering to the ground.

"We're going in the water," he said as she yelped and kicked.

Fully clothed, he plunged them both into the waves, eating salty spray. She wore her bathing suit underneath her wrap- around skirt, and he dislodged the skirt without a thought, throwing it wet and sopping onto the sand. He didn't want her drowning because there was so much material around her legs. Leaning back in the water, he grabbed her about the waist and kicked, swimming with her body on top of him. In only her bathing suit, her body was not only bare, but wet and slick under his arms and against his chest.  She was familiar now. 

"Behind the rocks," she said, and he released her so that they could swim together. What he found was something like a shallow lagoon with no shore, like a horseshoe of rock protruding out of the sea. The water was fairly shallow and in a minute he was standing, but the water crashed against the rocks all around except the way they came in. Looking up, all he could see was sky. 

"Did you know this was here?" he said, and his voice echoed a little strangely.

In a moment he felt her wet arms slip around his neck and her body press up against him. He grasped her uncertainly, aroused. "I found it yesterday," she whispered. "It's secluded."

"We're in broad daylight," he said quietly back, "there are people all around on the other side of these rocks..."

"They can't see us," she said, and planted wet kisses along his neck and shoulders.  "I want to make it memorable, so stop complaining."

He gave in. He wasn't really resisting anyway. 

*****

"Heero."

Heero blinked his eyes, sitting up in the sunlight, disorientated. Had he fallen asleep?

Relena was kneeling beside him, looking up at him as he slept in a chair by the window, whispering. "Heero," she said. "They'll be here any minute."

Heero was amazed how quickly the time flew. Duo, Hilde, Wufei, Quatre, Trowa, Zechs and Noin were all coming over for dinner and he must have dozed off.   Blinking sleep out of his eyes, he sat up, wondering if there was anything more to arrange in the house for company.

It took almost a full two weeks to unpack all of their things and decide where exactly they wanted the remaining furniture to go. They laughed trying to move a heavy, iron-wrought table with a glass surface into the den. Relena put on a brave show of pretending she could carry her end as well as Heero, but in the end he dragged most of it himself while she protested that she really was stronger than he thought. That had ended with them making love on the newly carpeted floor, the table not quite in place, Heero proving to Relena just how much stronger than her he could be when he wanted. She didn't do any protesting after that but seemed to make a show of being weaker just so he could have the thrill of taking her in hand.

Once they had the house as orderly as possible without spending several thousand dollars to buy more furniture to fill the rooms, Relena decided they needed to invite people over. 

Feeling groggy, Heero stood up and let Relena usher him inside. Grimacing, he tried to straighten his hair and then went into the kitchen to check on dinner. Five minutes later, the doorbell rang. Relena answered it and he could hear her voice mixing in with those of the people he knew, Duo's most prominent among them.

"About time we had a little reunion!" Duo said loudly. "Heero where are you? You live together, don't ya?" he said in a teasing voice.

"Relena, you're house is lovely," Hilde said politely.

"Why don't you come sit down?" he heard Relena's voice saying. "Dinner's almost ready."

Heero walked out to the dining room and tried to look hospitable, though Relena told him later he looked like an angry bull. It seemed to hit everybody that Heero and Relena really were married and not just putting on a show when they saw them living together in a new house with rings on their fingers, making and serving dinner to guests. Well, they tried to make dinner. Neither Relena nor Heero had any experience with cooking. Relena had always had a personal chef and Heero had always made simple food if he made anything. Still, tackling a cookbook, they managed something presentable and were complimented on their effort even if the meal was not perfect. Relena promised to learn how to cook if Heero promised to learn how to fix the house when it fell apart, as it inevitably would. Heero supposed learning the rudimentals of house repair couldn't be more difficult than fixing a broken gundam. Relena had less to go on with cooking, but she managed surprisingly well.

"I can't believe it," Duo kept muttering in disbelief. "Married. Wow. You _are having a second reception, right?"_

"Yes, Duo," Trowa said. Even he looked irritated with this continuous question.

Though Relena and Heero both felt adequately married already, they assured Duo the ceremony was still on. Hilde then asked Relena how she was doing with the preparations. Relena still seemed to find enormous joy in picking up where she had left off in her planning. The date for the reception would take place in the spring. Heero participated in the planning as much as he was forced, but since he already considered Relena his wife, he was more conscious of keeping the affair small and in a budget they could both afford. Relena had a sizeable amount of money in her savings, but Heero would rather save that for their children. Telling this to Relena at the table when Quatre brought up finances had produced an expression of shock on everyone's face.

"I thought you forgot," Relena whispered. "I wasn't sure you really meant…"

Everyone else just stared.

"That's so wonderful!" Hilde said at last.

"_Heero_?" Duo exclaimed almost on top of her.  "With children? I'm really just… I don't know what to say about that."

Heero glared at all of them. "Not right now," he growled, but turned to Relena with a reassuring look. "Eventually, yes."

He was surrounded by exclamations of approval and glowered in order to avoid flushing. 

Duo was scratching his head, apparently still in shock. "I'd like to see the ceremony first," he laughed. "But uh, I think we should toast anyway." Standing, he made a half bow at everyone around the table and lifted his champagne glass. "To Heero and Relena," he said, "whom everyone always knew were meant for each other because they shared a fascination with dying if nothing else."

"You're the one always claiming to be the God of Death," Hilde accused before Duo could drink. "And that's morbid."

Duo nodded thoughtfully. "Very well," he said, lifting his glass again. "To Heero and Relena, whose encouragement of each other somehow brought peace to Earth and Space and who will likely confound everyone who knows them as long as they live. We wish you all the happiness in the world." Duo took a sip of his champagne, but before the others could follow suit, he added, "and don't forget, Heero. I'm the best man."

"All right," Heero agreed officially. "I still might let Damion hold the ring, though," he said after Duo finally stopped grinning. "I'm afraid you might lose it."

Duo looked so crestfallen that Heero laughed out loud, and after a moment of shock from everyone at the table, the others laughed too. Even, after a minute, Duo.

"Congratulations," Zechs said, and titled his glass to his lips. Relena beamed at Heero and for a moment, he never felt like the only man in the world.  The voices of his friends receded into the background and the truth of Relena's statement dawned on him.  It was finally real.  It wasn't over, it was just beginning.  Silently, he clinked his glass against his wife's and they both drank.

*****

Three weeks in paradise were enough to spin her head, but when they finally boarded a flight and went back to Taravren, the wonder did not fade. When they drove up to the Palace and stepped into the foyer, Audrey's first reaction was to take a deep breath, close her eyes and smile. Something about vacationing made one appreciate home, and the Palace had never felt more like home than it did now with her husband by her side and her head packed with wonderful memories.

She knew those they had left behind would not have her memories.   Everyone here was waiting to see if time away with a new wife had settled their raging Prince down.  Even the people who came to get their bags at the airport had cast furtive glances in Damion's direction.  Audrey kept up a cool presence, but she smiled in answer to fearful looks cast her way.

No one had anything to worry about any longer.  Damion was in a good mood, a humor she was used to seeing him in again. Whatever dark troubles had fogged his mind and caused him to shout and mope and shake had vanished. True, his depression came back sometimes, at odd intervals when he thought about Manny or sometimes seemingly for no reason at all, but for the most part he was living again, smiling and laughing and enjoying himself.

When they came into Palace, the servants noticed.  Everyone noticed.  Damion came home in something between a run and a stride, with Audrey just beside him and an almost boyish smile on his face. Servants had taken their bags at the airport but the first thing Damion did when he walked into the foyer was summon the people passing by and congratulate them from keeping the palace relatively intact while he was gone. Even Audrey thought it looked particularly well maintained.  There was something about it that reminded her of times before the trouble began, back when Terese was in charge of the staff with Manny to help her and everything just _flowed beautifully.   She hadn't been sure it would ever feel that way again.  Perhaps it was just Damion in his normal state again, happy again, that made his home feel like hers as well, or __was it the way the servants greeted them immediately, the way the pictures hung on the wall, the way all the furniture had been dusted and polished?_

A thought entered Audrey's mind that almost seemed too good to be true.

The servants seemed in shock.  Some of them appeared to be most affected by the change in Damion.  Some of them just seemed to be hiding smiles.  For a moment, Audrey felt nothing less than lovely.  Old loyalties crept up on the faces of every man and woman who stood before them.  She thought they would have burst into laughter or tears in a moment.  Or maybe that was how she felt.  The servants looked at Damion with startled faces, but then they beamed at one another, made exaggerated bows as Manny had always done and asked his majesty if he wanted anything, anything at all.

"Damion!  Damion, you're back!  Thank God."

And Audrey did laugh, laughing as she gasped and moved out of the way as a figure burst through one of the doors by the stairs and a girl in a blue dress with wild black hair and shining eyes ran across the room and flung her arms around Damion's neck with a squeal of delight.

"Terese," Damion said in paralyzed shock, clasping her awkwardly. 

The girl bounced back down to the floor, bobbing on her toes and looked at him with tears in her eyes. "Oh, Damion, Damion!  Are you okay? I feel just _awful."_

"Terese," Damion repeated in the same tone.  "What are you doing back?  I thought you had gone for good."

A look like terror passed through the girl's eyes.  "Is it bad?  You won't turn me away will you?"

There were tears in Damion's eyes.  Audrey wasn't sure what sort they were, but if Terese had not been in the way, she would have touched his arm or his chest to draw away his attention.  Seeing her would remind him…but he had spoken of how much he missed Terese being in the Palace, even if Manny was not there.  Was he happy to see her, or did her presence sadden him?

"No," Damion said to Terese, and Audrey knew he was happy, even if he was also sad.  "But I thought the memories…"  He swallowed himself, looking around.  "He is still here, Terese.  I can feel him everywhere."

"I _know!"  Terese wailed.  "But so are you.  I've been foolish.  I thought I could escape some of the pain by going away but nothing changed at home. He was still gone. I cried so many times and nothing helped.  Only, no one at home knew him and then I realized how much worse you must be feeling.  I loved him," she said, tears sparkling in her dark eyes.  "He was my lover and my friend and I miss him so much, but you've known him longer than I have, and deeper too, despite that and he and I…well…" she looked around wildly and caught sight of Audrey.  "God, Audrey, you look wonderful."_

"Thank you," Audrey said automatically, blinking. 

Damion cocked his head, staring at Terese with eyes that were scrunched and wet with emotion and amazement. The servants looked nervous, swallowing as they swung guarded looks between Terese and Damion.  Manny's name had not been mentioned.  It had been stumbled around and inferred, but no one dared to say it.

"I miss him too," Damion said quietly, and then took a deep breath. "But Manny wouldn't want me to be sad forever."

Terese clasped her hand over her mouth and then threw her arms around Damion again, bursting into tears that sounded more hysterical than emotional. "Oh, but I love you too!  It was wretched of me to just walk out when we needed each other. Damion… Damion… I want my job back if you'll take me," she exclaimed, blinking big eyes at him. "I love it here. It wasn't the same when I left. I missed him so much more with no one around who even knew him. God I feel weird asking, but can we talk about Manny? I would just feel so much better if I just…"

"Yes," Damion said immediately, and hugged her before he let go. "Yes. I think that would…yes, we can. And you have your position back. It's just not the same without you."

The servants brightened immediately, many of them grinning.  Since Terese had returned, she had probably assumed her old duties automatically, and no doubt everyone had been wondering and hoping if she would be allowed to stay.

When Terese finally stepped back, Audrey touched Damion's arm. He looked at her and she smiled into his face, conveying that she understood he would want some time to talk to Terese about Manny for awhile. His return look was grateful and affectionate.  It also held a promise for later.  Their first night back at the palace had been discussed, and the bed in their room didn't seem scary anymore.

Terese gasped, staring at Audrey with eyes like a startled owl. "Oh! I missed the wedding!" she exclaimed, and sighed.  "Well, I _knew I had, but seeing you two together now… Ah! How is it? How did the ceremony go? Is everything between you…" She giggled. "I mean, Manny had concerns and I…"_

Damion stared at her in something like shock. The servants suddenly disappeared, slinking away and then running to avoid being incriminated. Audrey laughed. "I'll be on the balcony," she said to Damion, not replying to Terese's unfinished question and hardly able to contain her mirth. "Find me later?"

Damion nodded absently and Terese made another exclamation that had them both flushing and avoiding looking at her or each other. Quietly, Audrey stole away, leaving Damion with Terese to discuss (she hoped) something else.

The balcony was Audrey's favorite place to stand and think. Last time she had been here she was anxious, but now her thoughts were pleasant and she closed her eyes, letting the cool breeze wash over her. Damion was going to be okay. She and Damion were going to be okay together too. She had no doubts about their marriage, no alarming thoughts at all. Her fingers curled over the railing. She was Queen of Taravren, but even that monstrous thought was a buzz in the back of her head. The position was different these days anyway. The title was formal. Her real job was more like being a president's wife. She didn't feel any different and she expected little to change really.

Oh, her children would be princes and princesses. That was the main difference. She would have to teach them a lot more responsibility than perhaps other mothers did, but that did not bother her. She wondered when she should think about getting pregnant, how soon was too soon. She felt young and foolish and wanted more time to have Damion to herself, but she also knew it was important to provide an heir for him and the thought of children gave her a warm feeling. Perhaps next spring they would try to have a baby, or maybe the following year? She looked forward to the trying. If what she had seen so far was just the beginning, when they were both experimenting and inexperienced, she could only imagine what it would be like when they knew each other's bodies as well as they knew their own. It had astonished her when he kept his promise. She hadn't been sure it would work, but to her amazement it did and the memory made her shiver with delight. She wasn't sure it would have been the same with anyone else, but with Damion it was something she determined to do on a regular basis the rest of their lives. She didn't see any reason why they couldn't. 

And then the children. She closed her eyes and smiled. That might make life more difficult, but the more work the more enjoyment and she could see herself standing by this window, holding a miniature version of herself and Damion wrapped in a blanket… She could see her baby growing older, imitating her and his father (surely it would be a boy) and learning to be a prince. Maybe one of Manny's siblings would have a baby about the same age, someone to carry on the tradition she knew Damion still loved even if it broke his heart. 

It was half past seven when she felt Damion's presence behind her. She could always tell when it was him now, a scent and feel she recognized. Turning her head over her shoulder, she smiled at him and held out a hand. He took it and she wrapped his arm around her waist, looking out again as he buried his face in her hair.

"Did you and Terese talk about Manny all this time?" she whispered.

"Some of it," he said.  "I'm okay now."

Audrey closed her eyes.

"I also took care of something else," Damion added.   "My first order of business was to pardon Julia."

Relief crashed over her body as his arms tightened around her waist. "You told the Council?"

"Yes. It seems that Gardiner has been offered to Taravren.  I turned down the right to host the trial. It will be handled internationally.  It's not likely he will be killed tried anywhere else, but…"  Damion paused.  "It doesn't concern me if he's found life in prison or death or begs insanity.  I don't care.  I just want to love you and get on with me life."

It was hard not to smile. It didn't even matter what Gardiner's sentence was, as long as Damion was okay. She blinked tears from her eyes. One day, Julia would come back to visit them. When she did…

"I was thinking about a baby," Audrey said quietly.

Damion raised his head. "I'll have to have an heir," he said absently. 

She smiled, understanding the way his logic worked. A baby might not be real to him until he was holding it, but the idea was a political necessity.   She had no doubt that Damion would love his children more than he loved his own life when they were real.  She knew it in the depths of her soul.  "I was thinking," she said again, and paused. "Will your son have a personal servant?" 

She could sense his beautiful gray eyes blinking down at her from beneath his dark hair. "I can't think of a better way of honoring Manny's memory," he said. "I also can't believe how happy I am. Even with everything…" He kissed her cheek. "Come to bed, lady," he said, stepping back and pulling her arm out, his finger barely grasping hers. "And I'll make you a proper wife."

She felt herself glow to hear his call. When they first met she told him she would never make him a proper wife, and now he was going to hold it over her head. "I want you to," she said, smiling, turning to him.

Pulling her in, he pushed back her dark hair and rested his hand on her face. "Thank you," he said, emotion glimmering in his eyes, silver like the stars. "For saving me, and believing in me. I'm not the same person I was, but I love you."

"You are the same person," she said. "You're just stronger, and I love you too. Thank you for bringing me home."

Smiling ever so slightly, he leaned his head in to kiss her.

_~The End~_

*gasp*  Over?????   Seriously?  *zap stares around in bewilderment* I honestly don't believe it.  I've been working on this since September.  That's TEN months!   An overcooked baby.  I really can't comprehend this being done.  Not that I'm going to stop writing.  The only follow-up yet planned for Temper the Soul is some author's notes, which helps me lay it aside and focus on other things, but I will always keep writing something.  I have another 1xR one-shot already completed and will be posted soon.  

I NEED TO THANK ALL OF YOU!!!

I have many reviews and there's no way I can remember everybody, so please please PLEASE don't be offended if you are left out, but some personal thank yous need to go out to the people who have made an effort to keep me going by reviewing.  You honestly have no idea how much my confidence and my writing has improved merely from the reviews I receive here.  They mean the world to me and I can't thank any of you enough, but I will try to let you know that you were noticed.  They're not in any particular order, but I hope you can find your name.

Butterflygirl, you've been with me from the VERY beginning. I noticed. It means so much. THANK you.  Cutlass317, is there really any need to thank you personally?  I talk to you on AIM all the time.  ^_^  Sai,  you've been around forever and I REALLY appreciate your feedback.  You are one of the best!  Same to Ley, Ame-san, kmf, Meio-chan, apol (you rock!), Mya (come back!  It isn't over and I love seeing comments from you!), Lit Tenshi (you are awesome!), Oyuki (a good author AND reviewer.  You've been with me all the way!), Wing (who *I think* loves cliffhangers and whom I adore, but what happened to you?  You were so faithful!), and okapi-chan (I love being in anybody's favorites!  And I love okapis…^_^)  . Also a big thank you to deathangel (you were there for awhile and you've reviewed other fics of mine. Thank you.  I love it!), Star Pheonix (you seemed so emotional.  I love that!), Zero's Wings (you know you kick butt as a reviewer and a writer), LadySaturn (thank you! You came back even after I thought you had gone), The Infamous Chibicat (who leaves a review for every chapter, not just the current one! ^_^), kansho (who never signs in, but rocks all the same!  Is 14 still your favorite chapter? ^_~ Thank you for continuing this story!), Peanutbutter (a fan of the Mandred Chronicles who kept me writing at a critical stage, but where did you go?), Sea Faerie (thank you! but what happened to you?),  Demon Faerie Aeryka (whose reviews are long, detailed, and EXCELLENT), Sailor Even Horizon (thank you for your encouragement!), Chris (who ALSO never signs in, but reappears consistently in splendor.  I love your website), Ayanamichan (you came in late, but beautifully!  Thank you!), Knightwolfe (I think you only appeared once, but did you keep reading?), Jason M Lee (also a Mandred fan and an excellent writer, but evaporated in this fic.  I still appreciate you!), sync*n (who gave me critiques I appreciated!), RedMirax (one review in the middle…but then I gotcha again when Manny died!  *sniffle* But now where are you?), faust (You leave long, magnificent reviews, but you DISAPPEARED), amber (thanks for the support!  You are wonderful.  Come back!), Nonsequitur (a favorite aspect of the Question Game.  You wrote an essay of a review!  Going back to look over that chapter, I actually agree, but it wasn't meant to be read like that!), Footprints (your reviews had me _reeling with happiness. Thank you!), WingZeroChick (you had me hanging on in the middle!), relena (I hope I know who you are.  Thank you so much!), Jewls (you are fantastic!!!!!  Do you really want to hear about a book?  Thank you!!), Imc (I think I remember you from Mandred too.  You rock!  I wish you hadn't disappeared!), Yue Lover (A Scottish terrier?  It's entirely possible!  Thank you!), Ley (*tears up*  You wrote so much for me!  I appreciate it so much), Jenn Lynne (you commented on the priest!  Wow!  That's so incredibly awesome, thank you!),  LSR-7 (I really have lost my voice.  Thank you so much.  You have no idea how encouraging you are),  Nightheart (you are such a lurker!  I love it when you review, though!  Hang around more often!),  September Rose (you came in the middle and I'm not sure you came back, but thank you for all the lovely comments!) kiwi (coming and going, your reviews are really fabulous. Thank you), the archduke (you left reviews for a few chapters and I really loved them!), angelic1090 (you were there in the beginning and vanished for a long time, but you came back!  Thank you so much), Andi (you were there in the middle!), C.G. (thank you! But… where did you go?), Chihaya (your artwork is SOOOO lovely. Did you continue reading?), Bunny (thank you!  You came in late and stuck with it!  Amazing!), Rhiannon (is that from RJ?  Thanks for the reviews!  I got one in the middle and then *gasp* you were still there in the end! Thank you!), Cailet/Jen (definitely a fan of Melanie Rawn.  ^_^ but OMG!  I didn't realize you were reading!  Thank you!), km Iowe (*sniff* reviews for old chapters…thank you), Xlade (you made me laugh with happiness! Where did you go, though?), Amanda (oh, thank you SOO much!), Kai (*huge smile* thank you), Leaky Pfaucet (I came to depend on you, even if you showed up late.  Your reviews meant a lot!  Thank you very, very much), b (are b and just b the same person?  Hard to tell, but either way, thank you very very much.  It means a lot), kitty hilde (you are amazing!  Reviews for old chapters are always amazing.  Best wishes), Cass (you liked the 1xr wedding?  Aw, thank you), thePolokid (maybe words can't, but they sure help me! Thank you!  I really appreciated your encouragement toward the end!), Belldandy (*zap blushes* I'm flattered. Thank you!), Cyndi (the best? Wow, thank you.),  rin (so they are! Please come back!),  Arielle (thank you thank you thank you!  I wasn't sure you'd stick around!) Angel Y (you've been reading from the beginning?  I had no idea! Thank you!  Please review more often! ^_^)  Kitcat (thank you for finally reviewing!  It is SO appreciated!), Bluestarlight922 (you didn't review for a long time, but your current effort means worlds to me!!! Thank you!!!), Evil Karyta (I came to depend on you!  Wait until the end *gasp* Thank you for reviewing sooner!  I loved it),  Tenoko (you came in VERY late, but your reviews are no less appreciated!!!  I needed the support all the way through.  Thank you EVER so much), Trinni (three days!  I hope it was worth it.  Thank you!).  Okay, one last thank you to The Fic Critic, who amuses me immensely but stopped evaluating my story when it was about a third-of-the-way done.  8 is pretty good, but did it get any better?  And to Coley Merrin (I don't know if you look at ff.net, but your emailed reviews surpass all.  It's incredible.  You've made me cry.  Thank you so much.) _

If you haven't reviewed yet, or haven't in a long time, PLEASE do.  I can't tell you how much it means to me, even still, especially when I'm planning an original work and in need of encouragement.  Thank you for reading.  Really.  It means a lot to me and I sincerely appreciate it from the bottom of my heart.  A big thank you to all my readers.  I have a vision for a story, but it's the readers I write them _for, and it's readers I am hoping to please.  I have no idea if you like it if you don't tell me, so I appreciate your comments very much.  Thank you, everybody, very VERY much for reading this enormous work of mine.  I may count the pages and let you know how long it was in the author's notes, though it might frighten you.  ^_^  Again, thank you so very much for reading and please write a review.  You have no idea how much they help me and someday it might pay off in an actual book.  I would be ecstatic if I ever publish anything and I will have all of you to thank for encouraging me to try.  If my publishing something interests you (and don't get my hopes up if it really doesn't) let me know and I'll contact you.  I need all the help I can get and I'm a little lacking in courage.  _

For any reason you can email me at:

zapenstap@yahoo.com

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Thank you, _everybody!!!!  I'm so incredibly sorry if I missed anyone!_


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